Reasonable Cause to Suspect
by EllieV
Summary: A group British policemen are sent to Atlantis to investigate the death of Peter Grodin. This has been reposted at the request of someone at SGA Storyfinders. It will be here for a couple of weeks only,
1. Chapter 1

_Spoilers and warnings: This story contains spoilers for all seasons SGA up to end Season 3. It contains original characters and is a mystery story. The answers are not in the first chapter and are not always obvious. Bear in mind that these are our characters reacting to outsiders._

_Disclaimer: None of the SGA characters or situations mentioned belong to me. Note: all the original characters do belong to me._

_Where a coroner is informed that the body of a person ("the deceased") is lying within his district and there is reasonable cause to suspect that the deceased-_

_- has died a violent or an unnatural death;_

_- has died a sudden death of which the cause is unknown; or_

_- has died in prison or in such a place or in such circumstances as to require an inquest under any other Act,_

_then, whether the cause of death arose within his district or not, the coroner shall as soon as practicable hold an inquest into the death of the deceased …_

_Coroners Act 1988 (UK)_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 1  
**

They sat in silence as if waiting for the end of the world. Tapping, doodling, the occasional sigh, all were greeted with faint glares until the offender stopped. Sometimes a shift in a chair indicated a desire to pace. This, too, was frowned on. Finally, Carson Beckett had enough. He cleared his throat, giving Lt Col Sheppard unspoken permission to jump to his feet.

Sheppard waved a hand in Beckett's direction as if the entire thing was his fault. In some ways it was, thought Beckett.

"I don't like this," Sheppard announced, as though it was something he hadn't said dozens of times before.

Weir sighed, earning a glare in response. "Yes, John, you said. None of us like it."

Teyla and Ronon shifted in their seats, Teyla venturing hesitantly, "I still do not understand … _it_."

Sheppard replied obliquely, "I don't know how they got permission. Isn't Atlantis still a big secret from, well, _everybody_?"

"It doesn't matter," Weir said.

Sheppard's reply was almost disconsolate. "It's just that it's a bad time," he said. Instead of frowns, he received sympathetic nods. It wasn't a good time-not for anyone.

"The wheels of justice, Colonel," Beckett said, as though _he_ hadn't said it before, "even if it is just going through the motions."

"I don't understand 'it' either," Ronon rumbled.

Beckett started, "Well, you know we have different governments on Earth …" but was interrupted by Weir touching her earpiece.

"They're here. Cooperate, please," she said firmly.

Beckett could see the staff in the control room moving to the balcony to watch Caldwell and a couple of marines escorting their … guests? Wrong word. There were four of them. Watchful. He could see them taking in the control room and especially the crowd watching them back. Weir and Sheppard moved down to meet them.

He was _very_ tall. Dark-haired, icy blue eyes. He looked like a copper, thought Beckett. The petite brunette, slightly behind him to his left, looked like a model. The other two looked like henchman. The "bagmen," Beckett figured. Stoic automatons.

"Dr Weir," Caldwell greeted her. "This is Commander Cameron Stretton of the British police. He's here about the death of Dr Peter Grodin."

"Greater Manchester Police, Colonel," Caldwell was corrected in mild, pure Mancunian tones. Interesting, thought Beckett, he wasn't RP. He sounded like a copper, too.

"There's a difference?" Weir asked, even though she likely knew the answer. She smiled a little nervously. Commander Stretton looked like he didn't know how to smile.

Stretton raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said, "There's a difference." He didn't explain what it was.

Sheppard frowned.

"My remit, Dr Weir." Stretton handed her a folder and said formally, raising his voice slightly as if to address the room, "Ma'am, I am charged by the Greater Manchester North Coroner to investigate the 'Death Abroad' of Dr Peter Grodin under Section 8, Sub-section 1 of the Coroner's Act, 1988."

"Which says what?" Sheppard interrupted, almost aggressively. Beckett winced.

The officer was unimpressed by the posturing. "Coroners have the authority to hold an inquest where a British citizen has died in suspicious circumstances outside the UK, Colonel Sheppard. The Pegasus Galaxy is outside the UK, I think. Do you really want me to quote the Act for you?"

Sheppard hadn't been introduced, Beckett noted. Sheppard's frown deepened but he held his tongue. Beckett looked around. The crowd had grown. Grodin's death hadn't been their fault but he could see the defensive postures of the Atlantis team, even the ones who hadn't been here before the siege.

"Surely, you don't think that Peter was murdered?" protested Weir. "He was killed by the Wraith. Unless," she stiffened, "you think it was negligence?"

"I don't think anything, hence the investigation," Stretton said patiently. "Dr Weir, please understand-Dr Grodin's family asked the Greater Manchester North Coroner for an inquest because they were dissatisfied with the information provided to them regarding his death. The police service was asked to assist the Coroner. This investigation has been given clearance by the IOA at the request of the British Government's Foreign and Commonwealth Office. We didn't just decide to come off our own bat."

Beckett could see Weir and Sheppard exchange a glance and Stretton and his team note the exchange. Authority established, everyone sorted according to rank and place in the pecking order.

"Well, where do you want start?" conceded Weir. "My team will cooperate fully." She nodded around the room.

"Thank you." The policeman's face didn't change its bland expression despite having won the first round. Beckett suspected he'd have the same expression throughout the entire ordeal. "Anyone involved in the mission to the Legrange point satellite will do for starters. Lieutenant Miller. Dr McKay, in particular." Stretton tilted his head just slightly, watching the reaction.

"Well, that's going to be a problem," drawled Sheppard. "Dr McKay is dead."

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_I have no reason to think that Grodin comes from Manchester. I just like the place._

_RP 'received pronunciation' otherwise known as BBC English, the oft described 'hoity toity' upper class English accent._

_Copper: police officer._

_This story was, believe it or not, inspired by an article on the death of Princess Diana._


	2. Chapter 2

_In which Carson Beckett has flashbacks of a non-chronological nature ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Two**

All he wanted to do was curl into a ball in a far away corner and wait until the shaking stopped. He heard the hysterical, hiccupping sobs of the young anthropologist, the one who he had thought would giggle all the way through the mission. Beckett forced himself to his feet and pushed Colonel Sheppard away, grabbing her shoulders to face him.

"Stop it," he commanded and slapped her across the face. She looked shocked but the sobbing stopped. Sheppard looked horrified and strangely helpless.

"Carson!"

It was Weir. She had that surprised, sorrowful look on her face, the one that said, "We've lost more people" and he forced himself not to shake her as well. He recognized his own shock, swallowed hard once and turned away from her. His medical team moved from person to person but here, now, there weren't enough people anymore.

Carson Beckett knew he was the King of Whingers but Rodney McKay, genius scientist, beat him hands down. Beckett would have rather been in his infirmary, doing "that voodoo stuff" as Rodney disparagingly called it-in between crowing that Elizabeth had suggested none-too-subtlety that Carson get some "fresh air" and Sheppard shoving a flack jacket at him-but it was an otherwise pleasant enough day for a stroll, other than the constant zzzzzzzzz of Rodney complaining about how everyone was doing everything wrong and about the heat and his delicate complexion. Sheppard was used to it but he wasn't here and Major Lorne's left eye kept twitching. Carson surreptitiously offered him some Tylenol.

Lorne whispered, "Think Colonel Sheppard would notice if I cut out his tongue?"

They both turned as McKay berated Dr Zelenka for apparently "reversing the polarity of the neutron flow." Beckett rarely admitted to being a geek but he knew a line from Doctor Who when he heard one.

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" he whispered back to Lorne who got the sentiment, if not the reference, and grinned.

Beckett had never been on such a big offworld team before outside of the medical ones that he had led. It had all the elements of a staff picnic. Ostensibly, he was there in case someone got injured. In reality, he was standing around doing nothing. Unless one of the scientists blew something up, he didn't think there was much chance of anything much happening at all. The discovery team had reported power readings emanating from the ruins but, as Sheppard pointed out, there were always power readings in Ancient ruins and that they usually led to him getting hurt at some stage. McKay had mocked the findings until one of the discovery team shoved his notepad under McKay's nose. Two hours later and after much shouting from McKay, 35 scientists, 10 marines, and one very reluctant medical doctor were assembled in the gateroom ready to head offworld. Sheppard had managed to get out of the expedition by dint of the sprained ankle he'd picked up in the last set of ruins-lucky man. Beckett decided that he'd find a nice rock, sit down in the warm, and have a wee nap, Rodney McKay's House of Buzzsaws notwithstanding.

Weir leaned in, touching his arm gently. "Carson, what happened? Carson? Where is …"

"Where's McKay?" Sheppard interrupted, his face tight and anxious. "Beckett, where is everyone?"

He could hear the giggling. It hadn't stopped from the moment the team gathered in the gateroom. Beckett opened an eye to see Major Lorne flirting with … he couldn't remember the young anthropologist's name. He couldn't hear what Lorne was saying; the Major was taller than the anthropologist-Jenny?-and his head was lowered as he said something in her ear. In the distance he could hear raised voices-McKay and Zelenka in argument as ever. Lorne turned away from the anthropologist, his head scanning the sky.

It went like this: Giggle. Zzzzzzzz. Giggle. Zzzzzzz. Giggle. Zzzzzzzzzzz. The giggling stopped but the buzzing sound went on and on and on.

Major Lorne's head flipped back awkwardly and he fell to the ground, arms and legs splayed out at a "dead" angle-just like in the movies, in slow motion steadycam. The young anthropologist, whose only sound all day had been a sweet, flirtatious giggle, started screaming and screaming, in a crystal clear "C" pitch, as though she was auditioning for the Scottish National Opera, as though she would never ever stop.

Then the light rained down from the sky.

"Carson? Carson!"

"They're dead," he heard himself say. "They're all dead. Please god, let them be dead."

"What?" Sheppard demanded. "Beckett! What the hell happened?"

He saw the science team fan out from behind the ruins, running as though-a cliché, he thought dimly-as though their lives depended on it. McKay was pulling Zelenka along. He had to move, he thought, he had to move. He stared down at Lorne, at the young anthropologist standing over him completely hysterical. He could see the beam coming down from the sky, grazing for food. He rocked slightly and finally, ran towards Lorne, grabbing him by the arm, shoving the screaming woman towards the gate.

"Move!" Beckett yelled at her.

"I got him, Doc, I got him," snapped a marine. "Get her to the gate, go, go, move it!"

Beckett ran, pushing the anthropologist ahead of him. One of science team had dialled the gate and stood beside it waving his arms for them to hurry in team-building encouragement. Beckett shoved the woman through and turned back, colliding with the marine carrying Lorne over his shoulders in a fireman's lift. They lost balance, falling into the stargate and out the other end into a jumbled heap. Zelenka fell on top of them.

The gate switched off.

It could almost have been funny. Almost. Colonel Sheppard paced up and down. Hobbled up and down. Beckett noted clinically that his ankle seemed better, not enough to go anywhere without slowing things to a crawl, but better than not being able to go anywhere at all.

"You're sure it was the Wraith?"

Beckett's reply was weary, "There was a dart, Colonel."

"Maybe it was Ford," proffered Weir hopefully.

"Ford's dead," said Sheppard.

Beckett and Weir winced at his bluntness.

"You don't know that," she said.

"Elizabeth …" Sheppard said. It was all he ever had to say when he wanted to make a point. Sometimes, Beckett mused, Colonel Sheppard didn't seem to respect Dr Weir overmuch. Her face tightened and she looked down, gathering herself, as she did when Sheppard challenged her. She swallowed.

"Dr Weir?" It was Teyla with Ronon, her hulking shadow, close behind. "The gate technicians say they still cannot dial into the planet. I believe the Wraith must be keeping the gate open."

Sheppard's voice was low. "How long has it been?"

"Five hours," Teyla said softly. "They could have taken refuge somewhere."

"Yeah," Sheppard said. "Maybe …"

"Teyla, tell them to keep trying until they get through," Weir said. "Send a MALP."

They came through cautiously. Beckett was in the third line, in the minimalist medical away team: himself, another doctor, and a nurse, the three of them sandwiched between four lines of marines. Sheppard had argued that he was going; Weir opposed him. Finally, Beckett had snapped that they'd already had enough problems with slow people today. He hadn't meant it, of course, but Sheppard's face had whitened-a whiter shade of pale-and he'd ordered Major … the one with the buzzcut … Beckett didn't know his name either … to lead the away team. Sheppard had paused before he said "away team" and Beckett mentally substituted "recovery team" for him.

It had taken 20 hours before they could dial in. There was nothing to recover. There was no evidence that anyone had been there at all.

_TBC ..._

_Next: We find out that the policeman is canny and one to watch._


	3. Chapter 3

_In which we learn of a secret US government project called "Atlantis" ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Three**

Beckett blinked himself back into reality. He should stop doing that. He was well aware of the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder but he wondered if it was more survivor's guilt than anything else that triggered the flashbacks. Zelenka still looked haunted; McKay had pushed him through the gate but hadn't come through himself. The young anthropologist had requested to go back to Earth. Her giggle had disappeared. Lorne … Who knew what Lorne thought. Beckett hadn't seen him since he left the infirmary.

Everyone was still, as though Sheppard's announcement that McKay was dead had frozen the moment in time forever. His voice, despite the drawl, held a challenge but the policeman said nothing. The quizzical tilt of his head said it all.

"Dead?" The petite brunette broke the silence. Her voice was definitely RP. Beckett figured her for a fast-track graduate entry. A degree in criminology or psychology, no doubt. "That's a bit inconvenient."

"Yeah, especially for him," snapped Sheppard. Still blaming himself for not being there, thought Beckett, and refusing to talk it over with Heightmeyer. Well, who could blame the lad; the damned woman smiled too much. He'd only seen her himself because of his never-in-chronological-order flashbacks.

"Perhaps we could take this somewhere else, Dr Weir?" said Stretton calmly. "Somewhere less …"-he looked around-"crowded?"

"Something to hide?" challenged Sheppard. He wasn't doing himself any favors, tsked Beckett under his breath.

"I have no intention of conducting my inquiry in the middle of your gateroom, Colonel," said Stretton coolly. "My team, Dr Weir. Detective Inspector Chatham, Detective Sergeant Tynan, DC Breen. Shall we?"

He indicated the conference room as though he'd been in Atlantis before. Beckett's eyes narrowed. A canny policeman, one to watch. One of the automatons spoke up in a thick Glaswegian accent. Beckett found himself smiling and forced himself to stop.

"Boss, if you don't need us for this lot, me and Danny'll get our stuff off the ship and set up." He turned to Weir as Stretton waved them away. "Ma'am, we need a couple of secure rooms."

"Yes, of course." Weir was more flustered than she should have been, considered Beckett. "We have some space set aside for you. Sergeant?" A marine popped into view. "Would you show-"

"DS Tynan, ma'am," he replied.

"Yes, would you show DS Tynan and um, DC Breen to the rooms we've set up?"

They trooped out of the gateroom. Beckett was torn being wanting to follow them to see what the "stuff" was and seeing what happened next. Sheppard's eyes met Ronan's and Teyla's. He nodded at the door and out they went as well. It was Carson Beckett's considered medical opinion that Lt Colonel Sheppard was not handling this well. Stretton had ignored Teyla and Ronon but Detective Inspector Chatham watched them leave and then Sheppard with narrowed, assessing eyes as they went up the stairs.

Carson had always considered the way the doors to the conference room opened as elegant. As both officers heads turned as one to watch them close he had the sudden echoing sound of a prison door clanging shut in his head. They sat, without being asked, both with the inscrutable expressions that he imagined they were taught in police officer school.

"Dr Weir, as you can see," Stretton nodded at the folder in Weir's hand, "I have the authority to second personnel to assist our inquiry."

Sheppard exclaimed, "What?"

In the same breath, Weir said, "John" in warning tones then, "We can make some recommendations." Sheppard muttered something under his breath.

"Thank you," Stretton said, "but I have a list."

"You have a list," said Weir.

Beckett shut his eyes for a second, inwardly sighed, and opened them to find Detective Inspector Chatham watching him with the faintest of smiles on her face.

Stretton turned his head towards him. "Dr Beckett …"

"Uh, Carson is our Chief Surgeon. We need him in the infirmary," protested Weir.

He may as well get it over with. "Dr Weir, I was a police surgeon in Glasgow for a short time," Beckett replied. "I'm familiar with police procedures."

"We won't require you full-time, Doctor," said Chatham. "Just as is required. DC Breen is doubling as our SOCO."

Beckett nodded and sat down. Weir and Sheppard also finally sat, reluctantly, thought Beckett.

"Aren't you just talented, Carson," Sheppard said turning to him with false bonhomie.

Beckett gave a faint, nervous smile. Sheppard was getting too antsy for his liking. "Extra money always comes in handy when studying, Colonel," he said. "The police pay well."

"I'd also like the following people to be on call," Stretton said, naming various of the science team. "And Dr Adrian Barker to be assigned to my team until the inquiry is complete."

"Dr Barker is an entomologist, Commander," Weir said puzzledly. "Aside from his being British, I can't see how you'd need him."

"Nevertheless …" said Stretton mildly. "I imagine that entomologists are handy people in the Pegasus Galaxy."

Beckett couldn't see how Barker could help a coroner's inquiry; the sour expression on Sheppard's face indicated that he couldn't see it either -unless it was just the mention of one of the bug doctors, of course. Weir touched her earpiece and asked Barker to come to the conference room. The police officers fell silent. Sheppard also said nothing but Weir and Beckett exchanged should-we-fill-the-silence? glances. The two officers didn't seem the types to chit-chat. After a few minutes, voices outside the room grew louder. Stretton seemed to smile slightly … only _seemed_ to smile it appeared to Beckett. He couldn't be sure.

Detective Constable Breen stomped into the conference room followed by Dr Adrian Barker. A nice enough lad, thought Beckett. He had been recruited along with several other entomologists to study the Iratus bug. Barker was in his mid-thirties, slight, and like the rest of the bug doctors wore glasses. Sheppard avoided them and had been overheard to say that they gave him the creeps. Beckett liked them, if only for the slightly panicked look on Sheppard's face when they all peered at him with great interest whenever their paths crossed.

Breen sniffed, folded his arms, and said to Stretton, "Sir …" He stopped and glared at Barker, who rocked back and forth on his feet, arms also folded. "Look, sir … I don't mind coming halfway across the universe. Not a problem."

"But?" said Stretton.

Breen pointed at Barker. "But, sir, do we _have_ to have the hobby bobby?"

Barker pushed his glasses back on his nose, pointed his finger into Breen's face, and said, "Oi you, shut it."

Chatham serenely said, "Isn't that sweet, boss? He's remembered the lingo."

"DC Breen," said Stretton, "I'll remind you that the Special Constabulary are a welcome supplement to under-resourced territorial forces."

"We are?" said Barker delightedly.

"So says the brochure, Dr Barker," said Stretton. "Try not to put any poisonous insects into Danny's luggage this time, would you?"

"Um, right sir," said Barker. "How did you …?"

"I heard the screaming," Stretton said repressively. "Dr Weir, Dr Barker is a constable of The Metropolitan Police Special Constabulary. We've worked together before."

Sheppard just looked confused. "I thought you were a bug doctor. You're a policeman, too?" he asked Barker.

"A Special, Colonel," Barker said. "Part-time volunteer, like the Territorial Army. It's a … sort of …"

"Hobby?" sneered Breen.

Barker glowered. "Do you know what an Iratus bug is, sunshine?"

"Take the banter elsewhere, gentleman," ordered Stretton. "Danny, fill Ade in on the background." He jerked his head at the doors. "Out."

As the bickering officer and doctor left, Chatham smiled-a pretty smile, Beckett considered-and said, "They're good friends, really." A loud "Owwww" was heard in the distance. "No, really."

Beckett opened his mouth to ask about the poisonous-insect-in-luggage story but Stretton turned back to Weir and Sheppard.

"What happened to Dr McKay?" he asked.

"He and other members of an away team were taken by the Wraith," said Sheppard flatly.

"When was this?" Chatham wanted to know.

"A week and a half ago."

"I see," said Stretton. "Dr Weir, I'd like to set up some interviews with Dr McKay's staff and other members of your expedition team, including yourself and Colonel Sheppard."

"What's the point?" Sheppard wanted to know. "We don't know where the hive ship that has McKay is and it's not like we didn't look. McKay's gone." He stopped, bit his lip and continued, "I don't think you understand what happened when Grodin died, Commander Stretton. And," he said coldly, "I resent the implication that a member of my team had something to do with it. Grodin was killed when the Legrange point satellite was blown up by a Wraith hive ship that was on its way to Atlantis with two of its pals. They wanted to find Earth, you know? If they'd succeeded, you'd be Wraith fodder by now."

Beckett mulled over Lt Colonel John Sheppard. Sometimes Sheppard was so laid back, even in a crisis, that people forgot his military training, forgot that he was an officer. There was no mistaking the "ranking military officer" stance that he was taking now but the police appeared unmoved.

"Colonel," Chatham said. "Have you heard of 'What is Atlantis?'"

Sheppard shook his head with faint frustration. "No," he said.

"It's a website, Colonel. It's all about a secret US government project called Atlantis."

"So?" Sheppard said. "People may have heard of the name …"

Stretton interrupted him. "Except, Colonel, this secret US government project is a joint international scientific-military expedition where a lot of the members get killed and their deaths are never explained to their family members. That is, aside from the time when the expedition leader, one Dr Elizabeth Weir, sent messages to family members giving her condolences. The video message was delivered to each family by a member of the US military, no matter whether the expedition member was American or in the military or not. This puzzled some of the family members to the extent where they started asking questions, _a lot of questions_. The website is populated by relatives of your own expedition personnel, Colonel, Dr Weir. How's your mother's feet, by the way, Dr Beckett?"

"I don't …" started Weir.

Alarms bells started ringing in Beckett's head. _"I know you worry about me, Mum, but somehow we've found a way to rise to each challenge, so I wouldn't fret about my safety. It's the people here-from dozens of countries, all connected by a single bond. We represent the people of Earth-and if there's one thing I've discovered about we Earthlings, we're a scrappy bunch."_ Oh dear …

"Dr Weir, said Stretton, "your secret US government project isn't as secret as you might think."

_TBC …_

_DC: Detective Constable_

_Police Surgeon: a forensic medical examiner in the UK. They medically assess/provide forensic exams of prisoners in police custody or for crime victims, etc. They can provide forensic evidence in court and will go to scenes of sudden or suspicious death. There was a UK TV series called Dangerfield about a police surgeon. It was good up to the point where the guy who played Dangerfield left._

_SOCO: Scenes of Crime Officer, otherwise known as a crime scene investigator._

Special Constabulary: volunteer police officers

Territorial Army: like the Army Reserve

This was written prior to the airing of McKay and Mrs Miller and takes the position that the videos were sent to the relatives.

_Next: A police interview with Lt Miller._


	4. Chapter 4

_In which Miller screws up ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Four**

"Interview with Lieutenant Francis Miller, United States Marine Corp. The time is 11:05 am. Those present: Detective Inspector Kate Chatham and Commander Cameron Stretton, Greater Manchester Police. Lieutenant Miller, I must caution you that you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand the caution, sir?"

"Um … yeah, I think …?"

"It's the British version of your Miranda warning, sir," said Chatham. "We call it a caution."

"Oh, okay …"

"Lieutenant, you said prior to this interview that you didn't think it necessary to have anyone here with you. You're entitled to legal counsel, sir, or just to have someone sit in with you. Perhaps Colonel Sheppard?" pressed Chatham.

"That's okay, ma'am. I'm fine," said Miller.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, ma'am. Um, Colonel Sheppard's been a little upset about what happened to the away team. I'd rather not bother him right now." Miller looked faintly embarrassed.

"Someone else?"

"Uh, no, that's okay, ma'am."

"Let me know if you change your mind, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, sir, if we can talk about your flight to the Legrange point satellite. Why were you there?"

"Uh, I was flying the puddlejumper, ma'am," said Miller. "I have the Ancient gene. You need one to fly the jumpers."

"I see. And Dr McKay and Dr Grodin were also present?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Miller.

"What was the journey like?" asked Chatham.

"Well, it was really long. It took about 15 hours to get there," said Miller.

"Anything interesting happen along the way?"

"Like what?" Miller was puzzled by the question.

"What did you do to keep yourselves occupied? Did you play cards? Did you talk about the Wraith threat to Atlantis?" Chatham's hand wave encompassed myriad possible conversations.

"Mostly about the Wraith, ma'am. Dr McKay talks … talked a lot. I guess because he was nervous and he kept saying that Dr Zelenka called him miserable for saying how indispensable he was."

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, who was indispensable?"

"Dr McKay," said Miller. "Or so he said." Miller laughed nervously.

"It sounds like Dr McKay had a healthy ego," said Chatham smiling warmly.

Miller grinned back, relaxing a little. "Yes, ma'am, he said that no one else would be able to fix the satellite and that's why he was there instead of Dr Zelenka."

"Why was Dr Grodin there then?" Chatham asked.

"That's what Dr McKay said," said Miller. He glanced at Stretton who watched him with interest but was letting Chatham do all the talking.

"What did Dr Grodin say to that?"

"I dunno, ma'am, I guess we're just used to Dr McKay going off about how much more clever he is than everyone else. He is, though. More clever, I mean-_was_ more clever."

"I see," said Chatham. "What happened once you got to the satellite? Can you take us through it?"

"Dr McKay went in first to get the airlock open and get the atmosphere going. He was kind of panicking because he only had eight hours air in the tank. Dr Grodin and I followed him in once that was done. Then we tried to get the gravity online. Dr Grodin did that. Dr McKay wasn't …" Miller paused.

"What wasn't Dr McKay, Lieutenant?" asked Chatham.

"Dr Grodin turned on the artificial gravity while Dr McKay was still floating in the air. Dr McKay asked him to wait but Dr Grodin thought it would come on more slowly."

"How did it come on?"

"Instantly," said Miller. "Dr McKay sort of fell."

"Was he hurt? How far did he fall?"

"About 20 feet," said Miller. "Dr McKay said he'd have permanent back damage but he was fine after I helped him up."

"So, Dr McKay wasn't happy? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Um, yes, ma'am … But like I said, Dr McKay was fine. Uh, then, Dr McKay and Dr Grodin tried to work out why the satellite wouldn't work. The power was okay but it wasn't getting to the weapon. Dr Grodin said that we'd have to reroute the power from the buffer to the weapon because then it would arm itself."

"I'm not a scientist but isn't that kind of obvious?" asked Chatham.

"That's what …" Miller stopped.

Chatham prompted him. "Lieutenant?"

"Dr McKay said that Dr Grodin stating the obvious impressed him."

"And how did Dr Grodin react to that?"

"He, uh, kind of rolled his eyes and said, 'Thank you,'" said Miller. "Look ma'am, Dr McKay didn't mean anything by it. He just says … said … things like that."

"I see. What happened next?"

Stretton interrupted Miller's reply. "Lieutenant, are you sure you wouldn't like someone to sit in with you?"

Miller hesitated. "Uh, no, that's okay, sir."

Stretton sat back. "Very well. Please, go on."

"Um, well, Dr McKay worked out that one of us would have to go outside to reroute the power."

"And he went?"

"We drew straws. Well, pencils. We broke up a pencil into three …"

"I'm familiar with the concept, Lieutenant," said Chatham.

"Yes, ma'am," said Miller blushing slightly in a who-knew-what-the-British-did-or-didn't-know kind of way. "Dr McKay drew the short straw-pencil-but he was the most qualified to reroute the power anyway."

"Did he say that?" asked Chatham.

"No, ma'am, I did."

"Go on, Lieutenant."

"Well, Dr McKay and I went back into the jumper. Dr Grodin stayed behind to work things from his end."

"And was Dr McKay able to reroute the power?" asked Chatham.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What was said about that?" she asked.

"Um, Dr McKay said he didn't think he'd be able to do it but Dr Grodin was really encouraging him that he could."

"Such as?"

"Dr Grodin said that Dr McKay could fix anything."

"That was good of him," said Chatham. "Did Dr McKay agree with that assessment?"

"Well, he asked who told Dr Grodin that."

"Who did?"

Miller hesitated again. "He … uh … Dr Grodin said Dr McKay did."

"Dr McKay told Dr Grodin that he, Dr McKay, could fix anything?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am. But like I said, Dr McKay was always saying stuff like that. No one took any notice of it."

"Dr Grodin obviously did," Chatham pointed out.

"Uh, yes, ma'am."

"So, Dr McKay rerouted the power. What happened next?"

"We went back to pick up Dr Grodin but we couldn't get to him," said Miller.

"Why not?" Miller didn't say anything. "Lieutenant?"

"Um, we'd rerouted the power to the weapon okay but it meant the airlock and hatch wouldn't open."

"By we, you mean Dr McKay rerouted the power away from the airlock?" Miller was silent. "Lieutenant?"

"Um, ma'am, it's really not what it sounds like," Miller said.

"What does it sound like?" asked Chatham.

Stretton leaned forward. "Lieutenant, I'll ask you again if you would prefer to have legal counsel or someone else to sit with you during this interview."

Miller ignored him and said to Chatham, "Ma'am, you're making it sound like Dr McKay did it deliberately!"

She looked at Stretton who nodded at the machine recording the interview. "Lieutenant, Mr Stretton just asked if you wanted legal counsel or someone to sit in with you."

"No, ma'am, I don't!" Miller rushed on. "Look, Dr McKay didn't do anything wrong! Dr Grodin said to wait out the Wraith attack and to come back for him. Dr McKay said he'd reroute the power back but Dr Grodin said not to! The satellite got off one shot and then the circuits blew out or something. Then the Wraith blew up the satellite. Dr McKay," Miller tapped the table for emphasis, "did everything he could to persuade Dr Grodin to let him reroute the power and then tried to go back for him. He didn't do anything wrong!"

"How do you know?" Stretton asked.

"What?" Miller seemed startled by the interjection.

"Do you have the technical knowledge or expertise to know whether Dr McKay rerouted the power away from the airlock accidentally or deliberately?"

"No sir, but I knew Dr McKay," said Miller.

"Lieutenant, what did Dr McKay say when Dr Grodin said he thought the satellite's gravity would come on more slowly?"

"Huh, what, sir?" Miller looked confused.

"What did Dr McKay say when Dr Grodin said he assumed the satellite's gravity would come on more slowly?" repeated Stretton, watching Miller closely.

Miller froze.

"Lieutenant?"

Miller said nothing and looked troubled.

"Could you answer the question, Lieutenant?"

Miller's voice was reluctant and small. "Dr McKay said that Dr Grodin …" He stopped and swallowed. "He said Dr Grodin had assumed with his life."

The two police officers sat back in their chairs. The room was silent. Miller looked panicked.

Finally, Stretton said, "Thank you, Lieutenant. Interview terminated 11:55 am."

He leaned over and switched off the tape.

Outside the room, watching via the video camera, Carson Beckett shut his eyes in pain.

_TBC …_

_Note: My entire knowledge of British police interviews comes from the TV show The Bill, which I watched faithfully from 1984 to November 1997, when it ceased being a police procedural and became a soap opera._

_Caution: the UK police caution is their version of the US Miranda warning. I don't know what it's called in other countries._

_Next: We learn what Lt Cadman thinks of the policeman._


	5. Chapter 5

_In which we wonder who Grodin is connected to ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Five**

Beckett could hear the yelling as he approached the gateroom. So could everyone else. People were paused in the corridor, in pairs and small groups, glancing at each other. Beckett was walking behind Detective Sergeant Tynan and Dr Adrian Barker. The Atlanteans drew away from the three of them as they passed-Beckett supposed it was the taint of association. What happened to Miller had got around.

Detective Constable Breen was standing at the bottom of the stairs tossing a coin, appearing unconcerned by Colonel Sheppard's bellowing at his two senior officers. Beckett couldn't see Stretton or Chatham from where he was standing but he could see Elizabeth Weir standing with her back to the glass wall, apparently content to let Sheppard haul the two police officers over the coals.

"Your lad's got a bit of temper on him, Doc," he said to Beckett. Up and down went the coin.

"Well now, I suppose he doesn't like one of his team being accused of murder!" Beckett snapped. "None of us do! And it's not like Rodney is here to refute these accusations."

Breen, Tynan and Barker turned to him, the same blandly curious expression on their faces. Barker's turn was the most interesting to Beckett. He was an insect geek who got excited at finding a Pegasus Galaxy fly but at that moment he was a copper through and through.

Barker spoke first. "Dr McKay wasn't accused of murder, Dr Beckett."

"I was there, son," said Beckett. "I saw the way that interview went."

DS Tynan said, "Doctor, Lieutenant Miller was asked before the interview and three times during it if he wanted someone to sit in with him. You must know that they don't have to do that during the interview. At no time did Mr Stretton or DI Chatham say they thought Dr McKay had murdered Dr Grodin. Or did I pass out during that bit?"

Beckett said, "It was implied."

"By Miller," said Barker.

"What?" said Beckett outraged.

"Miller assumed that they were thinking that, Dr Beckett," said Barker softly so they couldn't be overheard. "Every time he paused during that interview, every time he hesitated, he was thinking, 'Did McKay kill Dr Grodin for allowing him to fall?' He had to be prompted to say that Dr McKay wasn't happy about the fall. Why did he pause? Because it occurred to him that maybe, just perhaps, Dr McKay had done something. Every time he protested, he was thinking that. And Mr Stretton is right. Miller wouldn't have known if McKay did or not. He was flying the jumper, not looking over McKay's shoulder. He didn't have the knowledge or the expertise to know if McKay jerryrigged the controls. Ask him if he didn't think it."

"Because they put that thought into his head!" protested Beckett, a little weakly.

"No, sir," said Breen. "He got there before they did. Why do think they questioned him on it?"

The three police officers-Barker wasn't an insect geek now-turned back and looked up to Weir's office, Breen's coin going up and down in time to the ebb and flow of Sheppard's voice.

After a few minutes, Barker said, "Looks like this'll be a while. I'm off to refs. Coming, Dr Beckett?"

"What?" asked Beckett distractedly.

"Off for a cuppa, Doc," said Barker gently pulling him away from the gateroom.

They sat in silence, Beckett thoughtfully sipping his scalding tea. He looked at Barker.

"You don't really think that McKay killed Grodin, do you?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter what I think. It's what the evidence says," replied Barker primly. At Beckett's frown, he said, "Look, Dr Beckett, I wasn't here when Dr Grodin was killed and aside from Dr McKay getting snotty at the entomologists when those bugs we brought back from PXE 418 escaped the lab, I've not had much to do with him. I know he's highly regarded for his scientific skills and less regarded for his social skills. That's the sum total of my knowledge of Dr McKay outside of people being genuinely upset about what happened to him and the other away team members. In fact," he took a long draw of his tea, "on observation, people are more upset about Dr McKay than they are about anyone else being taken by the Wraith. I think that's kind of telling, don't you?"

"Hey, Carson …" a light, drawling female voice said. The day suddenly got brighter as Lt Laura Cadman fell into a chair. She grinned at Beckett and leant over to pinch one of his biscuits. "Mmmm, double choc-chip cookies. You can always tell when the Daedelus is in town. What's up, Carson? You look like an old, dour Scotsman who's lost a penny."

"I _am_ an old, dour Scotsman, lass," replied Beckett with asperity. "I'm sure you've heard what's going on."

"Well, I think the all of Atlantis heard Colonel Sheppard yelling at your British friends," she said. "In fact, I think the Athosians over on the mainland heard him, too. Possibly the Wraith, as well."

"They're not my friends," said Beckett sourly. He nodded across the table at Barker, contentedly munching on a double choc-chip himself. "They're his."

"Oh yeah?" said Cadman, eyeing the entomologist. "That guy who's in charge …"

"Mr Stretton?" mumbled Barker, his mouth full.

"Yeah, him," said Cadman. "He's dead sexy."

Beckett spluttered into his tea. She grinned at him.

"Hey, I like to watch," she said.

"That's more than I needed to know," said Barker. "But I'll tell Mr Stretton what you said-if you like."

"Oh look, the bug guy's got a sense of humor!" she laughed.

"I'm surrounded by insects and entomologists all day, luv, I have to have a sense of humor," he said. "Perhaps, Colonel Sheppard will tell him for you. Here he is."

Sheppard only overheard the last bit. "Tell who what?" He looked frayed.

Barker eyed him thoughtfully-_testingly_, thought Beckett-and opened his mouth to respond as Cadman hissed, "Adrian!"

Barker paused, cocked an eyebrow at Cadman, and said, "Lt Cadman thought you might like to tell Mr Stretton that she thinks he's sexy."

The silence was dangerous. Sheppard slowly turned his head at Cadman who wilted. He said, "What?"

"Um, nothing, sorry sir, I have to …" Cadman got to her feet, waved in the direction of the door and bolted out, though not before poking Barker in the arm as she passed him.

"I don't like your pals, Dr Barker," Sheppard said sitting down. "Now they're wanting to go to PX3 489 to have a look around. We've told them the Wraith would have marked the place but no, they have to … what was it? … 'make their inquiries.'" Sheppard put quote marks around it mockingly.

"You don't have to like them, Colonel," Barker said with equanimity. "They here to do their job. If you don't want to talk to them, don't."

"I've been ordered to cooperate," said Sheppard. "So, I'm cooperating."

Barker and Beckett exchanged glances.

"You're not under British jurisdiction, Colonel," said Barker. "This base isn't either. These coronial inquiries don't have any legality outside of the UK. No one can be forced to cooperate."

Sheppard shook his head. "Orders from the IOA and reinforced by the President, so we're stuck with Mr British Policeman and his girlfriend."

Both doctors blinked at him.

"I really wouldn't say that to either of them, Colonel," said Barker carefully. "DI Chatham wouldn't be too happy. Women in the job have a hard enough time as it is."

"And what about Commander Stretton?"

Barker rocked his head from side-to-side. "Erm," he said, taking a breath, "Let's just say that you probably don't want to piss him off."

"Oh yeah? What's that Robin Williams British police sketch? 'Stop! Or I'll say stop again!'" Sheppard snorted out a laugh.

Beckett thought of those pale blue, icy eyes and shuddered inwardly.

"Oh, for … Will you listen to yourself, Colonel?" hissed Barker with surprising urgency. "This isn't some shinyarse PC Plod you're dealing with. You don't get to be a Commander in The Met by being nice to people! He's a friggin' hatchet man, mate."

"I thought he was from Manchester?" queried Beckett.

"Seconded to GMP for the inquiry. No Commanders outside of The Met. If he was in Manchester, he'd be an ACC."

"Which is …?" Sheppard looked annoyed.

"Assistant Chief Constable. Third rung down from the top and stuck on a desk. In The Met he's fifth rung down. Any higher you'd get a nosebleed. And he works operations not a desk. Don't piss him off," said Barker pointedly.

"Look, Adrian, what's he going to do? Shoot someone" asked Beckett.

"Actually, Doc, the last person I know of who pissed him off got a bullet in the head," said Barker bluntly. "All legal-like, of course. He got a commendation for it 'n' all."

"I thought they didn't carry guns," said Sheppard.

"PC Plods don't carry guns," Barker said. "They do."

"They can't shoot witnesses," protested Beckett.

Barker took another bite of his biscuit and mumbled, "I wouldn't put it past him."

"Adrian, you've worked with them before and you obviously get along, though," reasoned Beckett.

"I'm an entomologist, Dr Beckett," said Barker. "Why would an entomologist be working with the police?"

"You're a Special," said Beckett.

"Yeah, but usually I'm just on the beat. Carnival policing. Not that time. I was doing bug stuff. What does that tell you?"

Beckett thought for a moment and blinked in realization. "Erm, Adrian, what sort of bug stuff, was it?"

"Bio-terrorism," said Barker flatly. "And I shouldn't have said that much. That this lot was chosen for this inquiry means that someone is taking it seriously. You're asking the wrong questions. You shouldn't be asking why they're here, you should be asking who wanted them here."

Sheppard scowled at him. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Atlantis is a secret, Colonel. Do you really think the IOA and your President would allow a bunch of coppers here just because some scientist's family made a fuss to a local coroner?"

"Uh," said Beckett. "Erm …"

"And besides which the Coroner's Act says there has to be a body lying in the coroner's district. There was no body! So what's the coroner got to investigate then, eh?" Barker went on.

"Then …" Sheppard looked halfway between puzzled and-Beckett wasn't sure-was that nervous?

"Then, Colonel, you gotta ask yourself something." Barker took a bite of his biscuit, washing it down with the last of his tea before getting up, "You gotta ask what sort of pull Dr Grodin's family has to get the IOA and your President to agree to allow one of The Met's toecutters to investigate his death? _Who exactly was Dr Grodin connected to?_"

As Barker strolled out of the mess, Sheppard and Beckett looked at each other in dumbfounded silence.

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Carnival policing: a presence at a public event where nothing happens._

_Refs: refreshment, a tea break._

_Toecutters: bad guys._

_Next: An excursion is arranged._


	6. Chapter 6

_In which Sheppard becomes frustrated with policing ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 6**

It was an innocuous sounding name: PX3 489. Who would know, hearing the designation, that Atlantis had lost 39 members of an away team to the Wraith there. Outside of Rodney McKay, genius and general pain in the backside, there were scientists of world standing and their guardian marines. Carson Beckett did not want to go back there but here he was gearing up with Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne and 10 marines. Sheppard was talking quietly to Lorne whose pale, set face indicated that he didn't want to go back there either.

"Excuse me, Colonel, may I have a word with Major Lorne?"

It was DS Tynan, holding a rolled up sheet of plastic, and a folder. Sheppard frowned at him.

"Yes?" he said.

If Tynan noted Sheppard's shortness, he wasn't letting it show.

"Before we go, Mr Stretton wanted to clarify in what area your away team was working, Major," said Tynan to Lorne.

Lorne glanced at Sheppard who nodded. Tynan spread the plastic over a table. It was a map to scale of the ruins on PX3 489 and the area surrounding the stargate. Beckett even recognised the rock that he had sat against. The map showed the wooded areas surrounding the ruins and some distance beyond it. All it needed was a toy Wraith dart, also to scale, to show how everything had gone wrong.

"Where did you get this?" Sheppard indicated the map in curiosity.

"One of your cartographers made it up from the aerial photographs taken by the UAV that was sent through to check on possible Wraith presence, sir," said Tynan.

"We have cartographers?" asked Lorne. "I didn't know we had cartographers."

"There's 200 plus geeks in Atlantis," shrugged Sheppard. "There's gotta be at least one of each sort."

Lorne looked over the map and held out his hand for a marker. He noted the area in front of the stargate, a funnel shape towards the ruins, and circled the buildings.

"That's it, sir?" asked Tynan looking over the map. "No one went outside these areas?"

Lorne said, "We were there looking for a ZPM. We took a couple of anthropologists along to check out the ruins but we didn't have any reason to go anywhere else. Why?"

"There was a Wraith dart, yes? And everyone ran for the gate. You were carried back by one of your marines," said Chatham who was leaning against the door.

"Yeah, so?" Lorne responded almost aggressively.

"Not your fault, Major," said Sheppard softly. "What's this about, Detective Inspector Chatham?"

"Who shot you, Major?" said Chatham.

"What?"

"There was a dart in the sky yet you were shot with a Wraith stunner prior to anyone seeing the dart. Who shot you? And more importantly, where did the shot come from?" said Chatham.

"The Wraith probably had people-Wraith people-on the ground," said Sheppard dismissively. "What does it matter?"

"It may not, sir," said Chatham mildly. "It just widens our search area."

Sheppard shook his head. "What are you searching for?"

Tynan looked at Sheppard as though he was stupid. "Don't know, sir."

Sheppard looked at Chatham who gave a faint smile, nodded at him, and turned away from the door.

"Uh, wait, Detective Inspector?" Sheppard called after her. "I wanted to ask you something about Commander Stretton."

"Mister," said Tynan.

Sheppard stopped.

"His rank is Commander but it's a civilian rank. It's more appropriate to say 'Mister,' sir," said Tynan. He rolled up the map and followed Chatham.

Sheppard gave Tynan's back a you-people-are-confusing look and went out after them. Lorne and Beckett looked at each other and as one moved to the door to listen in.

"Look, uh, Detective Inspector, some things have come up that I wanted to ask you about," said Sheppard.

"He's tryin' real hard to be polite, isn't he," whispered Lorne.

"Shhh …" hissed Beckett.

Lorne wasn't wrong, though; this was most conciliatory Sheppard had sounded since the away team-since McKay-had vanished.

"Colonel," said Chatham courteously. "What may I help you with?"

Sheppard took a breath. "Information," he said.

"Such as?"

"Who is Grodin connected to?"

Chatham shook her head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, I don't understand."

"Something Barker said. He said that Grodin had to be well-connected to get the IOA and the President to sign off you coming here. He also said that he'd worked on some bio-terrorism thing with you. And that your Mr Stretton had shot some guy in the head because he pissed him off."

"Did he, indeed," murmured Chatham. "I must have a chat to Special Constable Barker. In response to the second part of your question, Colonel, we work in the area of The Met dealing in anti-terrorism which is where we met Ade Barker. We are on secondment to Greater Manchester for this inquiry."

"And the shooting bit?"

"Have you never shot someone, Colonel?" asked Chatham. "Haven't you shot a Wraith? Several Wraith? Many? I also recall some mention of intruders in Atlantis and about you activating the shield to prevent them from coming in? Bugs on a windshield was the description, I believe."

"I'm not a police officer, Ms Chatham."

"Ah, and that's different, of course," she said. "The police must obey the law and soldiers don't need to?"

"I'm not saying that, I just want to know what happened. I didn't even realize you guys carried weapons," said Sheppard.

Her eyes gleamed. "Yes, I've seen that Robin Williams sketch, too, Colonel." Sheppard looked uncomfortable. "Some operational areas of the British police forces are armed, sir."

"And yours is," stated Sheppard.

"Not always," she said. "There are generally specialist officers for that sort of thing."

"And that time?" questioned Sheppard.

"Suspect in a pharmacy robbery was holding a blood-filled syringe to a probationer's throat-a probationary police constable who had been in the job for three weeks. The suspect was a crackhead and he was given plenty of opportunity to give himself up. Mr Stretton wasn't even supposed to be there; he was coming back from a job and got stuck when Traffic blocked off the street. He went to see what was happening. Bloke wouldn't give up, went crazy, and tried to stab the puppy in the neck." She shrugged. "Not a good thing."

"The puppy-the probationer?" asked Sheppard. She nodded. "What about Grodin?"

Chatham was quiet, as though considering what to say. Finally, she said, "Colonel, you'd best be asking Mr Stretton about it. And perhaps where Noddy and Big Ears won't be listening in."

She looked past Sheppard to the door where Lorne and Beckett stood. Both had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Guv? Mr Stretton wants to know if we're going to get there before Christmas?" called out Tynan from the end of the corridor.

"Oh, he didn't really say that, did he," scolded Chatham.

"No, guv. That'd be my liberal and polite interpretation of 'Tell Katie to hurry the fuck up,'" said Tynan.

She winced slightly. "We're on our way, Ben. Best not keep the boss waiting, Colonel."

Sheppard looked back to Lorne and waved his team down to the gateroom. Beckett picked up his backpack and went with them. "Katie …" It indicated that Stretton and Chatham knew each other well. Perhaps Sheppard wasn't far wrong in his estimation of "girlfriend." Beckett chuckled slightly to himself, hearing his Mum's voice chiding him for gossiping.

The gateroom was a hive of activity except for Commander Stretton who was standing apparently ready, his arms folded, watching everyone else. His team had been issued with standard earpieces and microphones, though Stretton had his dangling over his shoulder rather than fitted to his ear. They wore black jeans, black jumpers, and Docs. It seemed to be a uniform of sorts, though Beckett couldn't think of any uniform where Docs were standard issue. There were suspicious-looking bags at their feet-with locks on them. Beckett considered what he knew of the The Met outside of the tourist trademark of the London bobby wearing a tall helmet and episodes of _The Bill_-admittedly he knew very little. Were there guns in the bags? Why would they need them? Beckett didn't know but he edged closer to Major Lorne just in case. Ronon and Teyla also stood waiting, Ronon frowning at everyone.

"Well, this should be fun," Sheppard said to Stretton. "I like excursions."

Stretton looked him over disinterestedly. "Pleased to hear it, Colonel," he replied. To Chatham he said poisonously, "Glad you could join us, Ms Chatham. What was it this time? Hair or nails?"

To Beckett's surprise she just grinned at him and held out her nails for his inspection. To his greater surprise, Stretton smiled back, his face lighting up making him instantly younger-looking. Sheppard looked startled, first at the byplay then at the smiles. Beckett admitted to a little surprise himself. Nothing had previously indicated that Stretton had a sense of humor.

As Weir came down the stairs to join them, Sheppard said, "Mr Stretton, we'll go through first." Sheppard indicated the marines closest to the gate. "Your team goes through in the second wave, followed by the rest of the marines and Teyla and Ronon. Please stick close to us."

Weir clasped her hands and said, "Colonel, Mr Stretton, be safe."

Stretton nodded in acknowledgement. He picked up a backpack and slung it onto his shoulder; his team picked up their bags in readiness.

Lorne nudged Beckett, indicating the police officers, and whispered, "Why are you going, Doc?"

Beckett whispered back, jerking his head at Stretton. "Requested by him. Don't know why."

"We're not gonna find Dr McKay there," said Lorne.

_No, they weren't_, thought Beckett. The ground had been gone over the last time; there had been nothing to find.

They stepped through the gate, the sunlight shining directly into their eyes on their arrival. All four police officers put on black baseball caps, the trim indicating their police issue. Sheppard shaded his eyes, looked around, and said, "Right, where do you want to start?"

"How do you know if a planet is marked by the Wraith, Colonel?" Tynan asked, the rolled up map of the area in his hand. "Is there a physical indication?"

"Generally, they just show up," said Lorne dryly, answering for Sheppard. "That's probably what happened last time."

Tynan opened the map and indicated an area on it to Stretton who nodded and said to Sheppard, "Thank you, Colonel. We'll call if we need you."

"What? Wait," snapped Sheppard. "We're here for your protection."

"For which we're grateful, Colonel, but we'd rather you didn't contaminate the scene," said Tynan. "If we might be able to borrow Mr Dex and Ms Emmagan?"

He nodded at Teyla and Ronon who stepped forward in surprise.

"Why? said Ronon, towering over Tynan.

"I understand you and Ms Emmagan have some experience in tracking, sir," said Tynan. "DC Breen will explain what we need." Breen tugged at Ronan's arm and began a low-voiced explanation. Ronon nodded. "We'll explain what we need you to do along the way, ma'am," Tynan said to Teyla.

"Hang on …" protested Sheppard.

"We'll call you, Colonel, thank you," said Chatham firmly.

The four officers and Ronon moved apart-about a metre, Beckett reckoned-and moved off with Teyla following behind them towards the treeline in the direction of the ruins. They walked slowly scanning the ground, leaving Sheppard looking stumped, his mouth open slightly and shaking his head in disbelief. Lorne and the marines looked confused.

"Is there _any_ point in arguing with them?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"I don't think so, Colonel. I saw this in Perthshire when a young lad went missing. They do it in a grid and just walk the ground looking for evidence," Beckett explained.

Sheppard said exasperatedly, "Of what?"

"Anything," said Beckett. "They don't know what they're looking for."

"And we'd just get in their way," said Sheppard.

"I suppose they're hoping for something that will lead them to Rodney."

"McKay's on a hive ship," said Sheppard coldly. "They're not going to find anything here."

"Maybe not, Colonel, but it would be nice if they did," Beckett said.

Sheppard leaned against the DHD and looked somewhere between wistful and infuriated. After a moment he looked around at the bemused marines and lifted his shoulders in a frustrated "oh well" gesture. "May as well make yourselves comfortable, boys. We might be here a while."

As the police officers and Ronon walked along in a line, occasionally one would put up a hand. Teyla moved in behind them and put down some sort of marker. Beckett couldn't see what was being marked. After a while, they disappeared from view.

It was getting a little too warm, Beckett decided, shrugging off his jacket. He sat, his back against the stargate. Lorne looked annoyed. The marines looked bored. Sheppard had intermittently contacted Stretton to ask if they needed help. No, thank you, Colonel. Had they found anything? We'll let you know if anything is found, thank you, Colonel. Beckett decided that an inactive Lt Colonel Sheppard was possibly more dangerous than one under fire. It had been over seven hours and the sun was blazing down uncomfortably. Beckett dozed but was startled awake by the crackling of a radio.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Tynan, sir."

"Tynan?" asked Sheppard. "Have you found something?"

"Would Major Lorne and Dr Beckett meet me at the ruins?" asked Tynan. "I just need to establish something, sir."

Sheppard hauled himself to his feet. "Let's go see what he wants. Stay here," he said to the marines.

Tynan was waiting for them, leaning against Beckett's rock. He raised an eyebrow at Sheppard.

"I'm pretty sure I only mentioned Major Lorne and Dr Beckett," he said.

"Whatever," said Sheppard dismissively. "What's up?"

Tynan eyed him for a moment and turned to Lorne. "Major, can you show me where you were standing when you were hit by the Wraith stunner. And Dr Beckett, can you show me where you were?"

Beckett pointed at the rock. "I was right there, lad. Major Lorne was …" he directed Lorne who shuffled a few feet here and there according to Beckett's hand waving. "Yes, there."

Tynan clicked his radio. "Danny boy, give us a bell, would ya?"

Beckett blinked back into time: Lorne talking to the young anthropologist, his head moving upwards to scan the sky; Lorne falling at an awkward angle; the rest of the away team pelting out of the ruins towards the gate and only six of them making it back. He blinked again. A red laser light hit Lorne's back and Sheppard jerked his P90 around to fire.

"Oi oi, settle down, sir," chided Tynan. "We're just working out the right angle for the stun to have come from. What's the range on those Wraith stunner things?"

"Far enough," said Sheppard.

"Very scientific, sir," said Tynan. "Dr Beckett, can you recall at what angle Major Lorne fell?"

"Erm, now, better to show you perhaps?" said Beckett.

At Tynan's nod, Lorne, grimacing, got down on the ground and Beckett ordered him about until he was in the approximate "dead angle" the doctor remembered.

Tynan moved in front of Lorne and looked past Beckett, Sheppard and Ronan to the treeline. He frowned, clicked his radio again and said, "Danny, have a look around you back into the trees from the clearing. Mark off the direction with the tape."

"Right, Sarge," came Breen's voice.

"What are you doing?" Ronon asked, his voice rumbling in puzzlement.

"Well, it's a bit odd, we think," said Tynan.

"What's odd?" asked Sheppard. "Outside of 39 people being taken by the Wraith." His voice was faintly sarcastic.

"The curious incident of the dog in the night-time, sir," said Tynan. "If you're familiar with your Sherlock Holmes."

"Let's assume that … Ronon … isn't," Sheppard said.

Beckett knew the story, of course, but wasn't entirely sure of the analogy Tynan was making.

"I mean, sir, Mr Dex was kind enough to explain what traces the Wraith usually leave behind."

"How is that related to the dog not barking?" asked Beckett.

"Look, I know the story but what the hell are you talking about?" asked Sheppard bewilderedly.

Tynan opened his mouth to reply but Teyla came bursting through the trees, along with Breen. They both stopped breathless in front of the others. Teyla waved behind her.

"Colonel, Mr Stretton would like you to join him."

"Okay …?" Sheppard drawled out a question.

"He did not say why, Colonel," said Teyla.

"Keep in between the tape, sir," said Breen.

Police tape marked an incongruous path into the trees from where Breen had aimed the red laser light at Lorne. Several miles in, the trees thinned out to a clearing. Stretton blocked the way.

"Good afternoon, Colonel, Dr Beckett, Mr Dex," he said. He motioned with his hand at Breen. "Danny, get your kit out. Ade will assist. Ben, you're with DI Chatham. Dr Beckett, we'll need your services."

"You found something," Sheppard said. He said it as a statement-the hope in his voice making Beckett's heart ache.

Stretton held out one of the UAV aerial photographs. "This is the clearing from the air, Colonel."

Beckett craned his neck to see but couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary. Sheppard studied the photo. He looked up at Stretton with a look of puzzlement on his face and pushed past the policeman to run into the clearing. He stopped, his shoulders sagging. Stretton caught Sheppard's arm to hold him up as Breen and Barker delicately uncovered a human hand from under the dirt.

"Tell me something, Colonel," said Stretton. "Do the Wraith bury the dead?"

_TBC…_

_Notes:_

_Puppy: nickname for a probationary police constable._

_Traffic: the police section that polices traffic flows, accidents, etc._

_Noddy and Big Ears: from the Enid Blyton children's books._

_The curious incident of the dog in the night-time (i.e. the dog didn't bark - the Wraith don't leave clues): from The Hound of the Baskervilles._

_Next: All roads lead to the dropping of eaves._


	7. Chapter 7

_In which we find out what's up with that website ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Seven**

There was an unspoken truism in Carson Beckett's book: all roads led to the mess hall. Eventually, everyone had to eat. He parked himself in a corner near the balcony. Visibly accessible to those who wanted to chat yet far enough away that people could keep to themselves. He had suggested it some time ago as a stratagem to Dr Heightmeyer but she preferred her office; Beckett remained unsurprised at her lack of return customers. People preferred a wee chat with their friendly neighborhood GP it seemed, even if the GP was a multi-trained, leading geneticist and the neighborhood was light years away from Earth. He always got the best out of Rodney McKay over a bite to eat.

It was quiet though it wasn't that late. The atmosphere was hushed. People were waiting on results-DNA results, autopsy results. Autopsies took a long time and the tests took even longer. It wasn't, he explained to more than one person, like a TV show where results happened in 40 minutes. People, he said firmly, would have to wait. There were a lot of bodies-lots of bodies meant lots of autopsies, over a long period of time, and lots of tests. Waiting took a long time, too.

Digging up bodies took an even longer time-longer than he had expected even with his short stint as a police surgeon. With a kindness that Sheppard clearly hadn't expected, Stretton had said softly that they could bring the bodies back without checking anything else if that was what he wanted. The Wraith didn't do this, Sheppard said numbly, and he wanted to know who did. Stretton had considered Sheppard for a moment and said that their job was to speak to Dr McKay-if he was available. He glanced at the clearing then he and Sheppard nodded at each other and Sheppard stepped back to let them get on with their job. In retrospect, the dynamics between them at that moment were fascinating. At the time, Beckett didn't have much time to think.

They documented everything. When the daylight went, spotlights were brought in to continue their work. Photographs were taken. Samples were taken. And carefully, so carefully, so gently, the bodies were put into bags and returned to Atlantis. Beckett had allocated most of his infirmary's resources to the autopsies but in reality, only he and Dr Biro were really qualified to do a proper forensic examination to determine the causes of death.

A slight movement outside on the balcony caught his eye. The lights were off and he squinted to see who it was. He frowned at the figure sitting, back against the wall, legs drawn up to the chest, head down on knees, arms wrapped around legs. He wondered if he should go out there. At the mess door opening, he thought that perhaps he wouldn't.

"Carson," Weir greeted him. "You look tired." At his shaking his head, she said, "Yes, I know, John has previously told me that I have a talent for stating the obvious." She spread her hands out onto the table. "I was looking for the police officers - DI Chatham or Commander Stretton. I didn't want to disturb those in the lab."

_No_, Beckett thought, _the lab's not a good place right now_. He pointed out the door.

"Mr Stretton is on the balcony," he said softly.

Weir looked into the darkness at Stretton, who hadn't moved. She bit her lip.

"He looks tired, too," she said.

"He and DI Chatham were present for all the autopsies," Beckett said. "DI Chatham was with me; Mr Stretton was with Dr Biro."

Weir appeared to consider Dr Biro. "Oh," she said, and quietly moved onto the balcony. A sensor light gently lit the area.

"Mr Stretton?" she asked.

Stretton lifted his head and blinked at her. "Dr Weir," he said.

"You look tired," she said. "You should get some sleep."

He nodded but didn't move other than to gesture at the ocean. "I needed some air."

"Carson said you were present at all the autopsies," she ventured, pulling up a seat opposite him.

"Half the autopsies," he corrected. "Katie did the other half." He waited a beat before continuing. "Your Dr Biro is … um … interesting."

"She likes her job," said Weir.

"I gathered," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"I wanted to ask you about this website," she said.

"Ah," he said. "I wondered when you were going to ask about that."

"I've been busy," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. "What do you want to know?"

"Are we in trouble?"

"Define trouble," he said.

"The IOA didn't mention it at the review," she said. "If the site was going to reveal that Atlantis wasn't on Earth, then wouldn't they have done that? How much did the Air Force pass on of the video messages?"

"This is secondhand. I didn't see most of the originals nor most of the edited ones," he said. "Most of your people, I was told, didn't say anything that could compromise the security of the project, I believe a lot of Dr Zelenka's message was deleted. Dr McKay's message was … long. I did see the original of that one. Went for nearly an hour, you know. Dr McKay talks a lot."

"Hearsay?" she asked.

"Nothing to do with my inquiry. Didn't matter," he said.

Beckett, inside listening in, noted the shorthand of his speech.

"How did …?" she asked.

"Started with a blog, I believe. There's a Japanese doctor who has a crush on Dr McKay?"

Weir nodded. "Dr Kusunagi. She's been terribly upset."

"I saw her message. She was wearing an Atlantis patch," Stretton said.

"The Air Force didn't airbrush that out?" Weir was startled.

"Yes," he said. "They did, and some kid good at video and Photoshop cleaned the image right up. It's still blurry but it's readable. Dr Kusunagi's sister started the blog then a website and other people found her, including Lieutenant Ford's cousin who is pretty fiery from the messages I read. She's careful, though. She alludes to a visit from Ford's CO-Colonel Sheppard, I assume-but doesn't give details."

"Are we in trouble? Weir repeated.

"Probably," he said yawning. "Does it matter?"

"It mattered enough for you to mention it," she countered.

"True," he said.

"How does this tie in with Peter's death?" she asked. "You said it had nothing to do with your inquiry."

"It doesn't matter to _me_," he emphasized. "I'm here for one matter."

"Which means it matters to other people," she said carefully. "Is there going to be scapegoating?"

"Couldn't say," he said noncommittally.

"Couldn't or won't?" she wanted to know.

"I'm a police officer, Dr Weir. While you don't get to my rank without being politically aware, I've tried to stay out of politics. Police politics tend to be different to actual politics, though there's often crossover. This website issue does not matter to _me_; it matters to people higher up the food chain-actual politics."

"Higher up the food chain," she repeated. "Nosebleed high?"

Sheppard must have told her what Barker said about Stretton's rank, Beckett reasoned.

"Passed out from lack of oxygen high, Dr Weir. An orientation for you," said Stretton. He yawned. "It impacts this inquiry because they," he pointed upwards, "want it to."

"I see," she said. "Thank you-for the warning."

He eyed her for a moment, nodded, and put his head back down on his knees.

Weir hesitated and glanced back at Beckett. He nodded at her.

"Mr Stretton, the rest of this isn't really part of your remit," she said.

He looked up at her again but said nothing.

She clasped her fingers together. "You came here to do some interviews about Dr Grodin and despite you telling Colonel Sheppard that you still needed to speak to Dr McKay, the …" she hesitated again.

"I think 'murders' is the word you're looking for," said Stretton. He voice held no tone.

She swallowed. "Yes. The murders of the Atlantis personnel isn't part of that," she said.

"No, it isn't," he agreed.

"Do you think that Dr McKay murdered Peter?" she moved sideways off the topic. "Rodney could be difficult, bloody-minded and his ego was second to none but …"

He held up a hand forestalling her. "Dr Weir, in the past week and a half we've spoken to most of the people who worked with Dr McKay. We also spoke to previous Atlantis personnel back on Earth. Aside from Dr Kavanaugh, who doesn't like anyone-especially not you-and who has an ego that's bigger than the one ascribed to Dr McKay yet is completely idiotic, most people have conflicting views about Dr McKay. Dr McKay purports not to like people, insults everyone around him, but spends a great deal of time ensuring that the people here are the most important consideration to _him_. Not anyone else-to him personally. He has a healthy ego in terms of his skills; is well aware of his brainpower and his position as the most important member of the science team; and yet in personal relations he's extremely fragile. He wants people to like him and is afraid they won't. He pushes people away but wants them closer. He's obnoxious but is particularly close to Sheppard, who obviously doesn't suffer fools at all, and he looks upon Atlantis personnel as his substitute family. Did he kill Dr Grodin? I don't know. Could he have killed Dr Grodin? Yes, of course, he could have-most people could kill but wouldn't. _Would_ Dr McKay have killed Dr Grodin? From what I've gleaned of his personality, it wouldn't have even occurred to him and he would be horrified at the suggestion."

Weir's jaw dropped slightly during this recitation. So did Beckett's.

"I still need to speak to him, though," added Stretton.

"He's dead," said Weir. "You stood through the autopsies, all 39 of them."

_Oh dear_, thought Beckett. _The bodies had been mutilated. None were recognizable. No one mentioned …_

"Thirty-eight autopsies," Stretton corrected her.

"I'm sorry?" she said puzzled.

"There were 38 bodies, Dr Weir, not 39; we looked, we found 38 bodies."

She stared at him.

"And," he added, "Despite the DNA tests to ID them all not coming back as yet, I'm going to bet that the missing body belongs to Dr McKay."

_TBC …_

_Note:_

_Again, this story makes the assumption that the video messages were released to the relatives. This chapter was written prior to the airing of McKay and Mrs Miller._

_Next: Some chat and then some more chat ..._


	8. Chapter 8

_In which we have__ an entire chapter of exposition._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter Eight**

Beckett sat in the mess hall and waited for his next customer. Weir had left, looking disturbed. He bet her next stop would be the DNA lab, no matter whether she wanted to bother them or not. A small glow from the balcony made for interesting analysis. Beckett considered this. Policework was stressful. He weighed up the pros and cons of the occasional cigarette against blowing the occasional gasket. He knew just the person at home to slip the idea for a study to as well; sometimes he regretted the lost opportunities of just doing a plain old research study that had had everything to do with people and nothing to do with genetics.

He thought of who might come in next. He didn't think it would be any of the lads beavering away in the lab. Too busy. He hadn't seen DI Chatham since the end of the autopsies and in some ways he was surprised that she wasn't sitting out with Stretton. Teyla and Ronon were possibles but the last time he had seen both of them they were with DS Tynan. Now, that really was interesting. Eager students both. Would Atlantis ever need a police force and would Teyla and Ronon apply for the jobs? He had asked what it was that Teyla had been marking. She had leaned in so Sheppard couldn't overhear her. I am sorry that we-indicating Ronon and herself-hadn't been able to search the ground ourselves, Dr Beckett. Ronon had also leaned in. Obvious that it wasn't the Wraith, he said. The Wraith don't leave-he turned to Tynan-what was that you said? Clues, lad, said the Sergeant. Yes, Ronon and Teyla said solemnly, the Wraith don't leave clues.

The mess hall door opened and in walked Sheppard. He looked drained. He stopped at Beckett's table.

"Where's …" he asked.

Beckett pointed at the balcony. Stretton was leaning on the rail looking downwards into the water. Sheppard walked over and stopped a few feet away.

"Hey," he said.

Stretton tossed his cigarette butt into the ocean.

"You just polluted our waterway," said Sheppard.

"There a fine for that?" Stretton looked amused.

"Nope," said Sheppard. He looked faintly embarrassed. "Uh, wanna beer?"

"It's not that American piss, is it?" said Stretton.

"Atlantis's finest Czech brew," said Sheppard handing over a bottle.

Stretton took a drink and coughed slightly. He looked at the bottle. "Good god," he said.

"Yup," said Sheppard. "I, uh, come offering bad Czech beer in exchange for information."

Stretton eyed the bottle and said wheezing slightly, "Really, that wasn't necessary." He took another drink. "Got anymore?"

Sheppard held up what looked like a sixpack. Dr Zelenka was indeed ingenious, thought Beckett.

"How did you know about the bodies?" asked Sheppard.

"I didn't," replied Stretton.

"You knew where to look, though," said Sheppard with certainty.

"All the photos bar the one of the clearing were of flat ground. The clearing was different. There was a mound and the ground looked disturbed. That's all."

"All?" Sheppard asked. "That's all you went on?"

"Not very scientific, is it, Colonel." Stretton took another drink and coughed again.

"So, it was just a hunch?" Sheppard looked disbelieving.

Stretton shook his head slightly. "Someone disappears in the Pegasus Galaxy and you automatically think Wraith, yes?" Sheppard nodded a little. "Life-sucking aliens are still a bit esoteric to me despite my wife making me sit through every episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. Someone disappears and I automatically start looking for where the body is buried."

"You must lead a fun life," said Sheppard dryly.

Stretton shrugged. "I'd rather be doing paperwork."

"Paperwork?" asked Sheppard somewhat incredulously. "Isn't even this-as bad as this is-isn't it better than spending all your time at a desk?"

"Not when the alternative is telling some kid that mummy isn't coming home tonight because a crack addict emptied a blood-filled syringe in her jugular," said Stretton flatly.

As Sheppard flinched, Beckett wondered if Stretton had chosen that example deliberately; it seemed to be the end of Chatham's story of shooting someone who had pissed him off. The two of them finished their beers in silence. Stretton looked at the empty bottle, looked around, and placed it down on the table.

"You need some bins around here," he said. "I'm going to the lab."

Sheppard followed but stopped at Beckett's table.

"He's …" Sheppard waved his hand in the air vaguely in the direction of the door.

"Yes, he is, isn't he," agreed Beckett. "What are you going to do, Colonel?"

"What about?" said Sheppard.

"Elizabeth said to Mr Stretton that this wasn't part of his inquiry and it isn't, really," Beckett pointed out.

"Don't you want to know what happened to our people, Carson?" he snapped at Beckett.

"Yes, I do," said Beckett calmly. "What happened to 'Mr British Policeman and his girlfriend?'"

Sheppard flushed. "They have an expertise that we can use, Carson. Rodney is still missing and if it takes a little of 'We need to speak to him' then so be it."

"Rodney might be one of the bodies," said Beckett. "You saw how badly mutilated they were. A number of scientists were the same height and build as Rodney. He could be downstairs right now."

Sheppard shook his head no. "I think McKay's alive-and so do you." He put the rest of Zelenka's sixpack on the table and left the mess.

_Yes,_ Beckett thought, _I do think Rodney is still alive._

Barker shuffled into the conference room, followed by Breen. Beckett knew Barker's qualifications but until he'd seen Breen at work, he hadn't realized that the officer really was a crime scene investigator. In one of the few breaks they took uncovering the bodies, Barker had said offhandedly that Breen had taken Joint Honours in a combined forensic science and criminology degree. The lad had a brain, Barker said proudly, though please don't tell him I said, Dr Beckett. Both Barker and Breen looked as tired as Beckett felt. They'd been working non-stop, snatching an hour or two of sleep here and there, and they still hadn't finished.

Tynan came in with Ronon and Teyla close on his heels-_like puppies_, thought Beckett irreverently. Ronon was talking expansively to the small Scotsman. Beckett hadn't had a chance to talk much to Tynan but at one point in the lab, Tynan had caught Beckett's arm, fingered the St Andrew's patch, and strolled off whistling what sounded like a Runrig's "Pride of the Summer."

"Erm, so …" Beckett started to ask about progress but was cut off by Tynan.

"We'll wait until Mr Stretton, the DI, and your lot get here, Doc," said Tynan. "Save us repeating everything, eh?"

Beckett nodded. He flicked through his preliminary report-his vastly incomplete report. Barker and Breen were huddled over their computers, conferring quietly, fingers pointing at various things on the screen. Tynan was doing the same with Ronon and Teyla. After a few minutes, silence fell as they began twiddling their thumbs. Time for some social chitchat, decided Beckett.

"Atlantis must have come as something of a surprise to you," he said indicating Tynan and Breen.

"What, the whole artificial wormhole, aliens, other galaxies thing?" queried Breen. "No, not really. Why?"

Beckett chuckled at the sarcasm. "How did you find out?"

"Short version? Boss said we had a job, death abroad, and it was classified as top secret. We went through some rigmarole, arrived at Cheyenne Mountain, went out with the lads there a few times, got on board the spaceship, arrived here," said Tynan.

"What was the rigmarole?" asked Barker.

"Security clearances. Coz apparently we can't keep secrets being coppers 'n' all," said Breen dryly.

"You do not seem … bothered …" Teyla searched for the right word.

"We had some time to get used to the idea," said Tynan. "We're over the 'Yis fuckin' kiddin' me' stage."

"_Did_ you go through that stage?" enquired Beckett.

"Didn't you?"

Beckett nodded. "It took a while. I threw up the first time I went through the stargate."

Tynan grinned and pointed at Breen, who put his hand up.

"Good safety tip for you, Doc," Breen said. "Eggs 'n' toast fingers-not a good idea before stargate travel."

"Ouch," said Barker. "Here's another one: baked beans on toast."

"You didn't?"

Barker nodded sheepishly.

"What about the Wraith? What were you told about them?" asked Beckett.

"We got told there were life-sucking aliens. I was a little freaked out about it because you don't get life-sucking aliens in Glasgow … hmmm, the Gorbals maybe …" said Tynan. Beckett grinned at him. "The boss seemed less surprised than us but then, he never seems surprised at anything. When it comes down to it, Doc, despite the aliens, the other galaxy, and the whole secret mess of it, it's still a death abroad. That's what the guvner said and that's how we approached it. Outside of Mr Stretton-and who the hell knows what he thinks-you could call it a coping mechanism if you wanted. Do the job, go home."

"What about your DI?" Beckett wanted to know. "She seems to be taking her lead from Mr Stretton. Two peas in a pod."

"They've worked together a long time," said Breen. "He was her puppywalker and she's followed him about ever since-so to speak. Graduate entry, but you've probably figured that. Criminology and psychology but you probably figured that, too. She's not his girlfriend."

He eyed Beckett appraisingly. Beckett turned to Barker who waved him off.

"Don't look at me, Dr Beckett," said Barker. "There were plenty of people about who heard that comment."

"Heard what?" said Sheppard coming in with Weir.

"Doesn't matter," said Beckett hastily.

"What doesn't matter?" asked Chatham as she came in with Stretton. She looked picture perfect, thought Beckett; Stretton looked tired and grumpy.

"Nothing," said Barker.

Chatham narrowed her eyes at him and around the table at Tynan, Beckett, Teyla and Ronan. It was the gaze of "Something's up and you're not saying" and all of them squirmed. She sat down next to Stretton. Sheppard said something quietly to Weir and she nodded. She leaned forward and clasped her hands.

"Mr Stretton, I said to you earlier that all this wasn't really part of your inquiry despite you saying that you needed to speak to Rodney. You agreed with that."

"Yes," he said.

"Boss!" Breen protested. Tynan shifted in his chair. Chatham held up a finger in quiet to both of them.

"What happens if Rodney is amongst the bodies downstairs?" she asked.

"Then we pack up and go home," he said. "What do you want, Dr Weir?"

"I want you to keep investigating even if Rodney is dead. Your team has expertise that we can use to find out what happened. I know that you can justify it if Rodney is not amongst those bodies-you don't think he is anyway. Make an excuse, justify it somehow, but we could use your help."

"Cameron …" said Chatham softly. "I think we should."

He turned his head to her as she spoke. She hesitated, as though considering whether she should go on. She whispered something in his ear. He slid a sideways glance at her and sat back, his face expressionless.

"Out," Stretton said, indicating his team. At their will-we-won't-we wavering he snapped, "Now."

Barker, Breen and Tynan left; Sheppard looked at Stretton's face, made eye contact with Teyla and Ronon and indicated "out," too. They quietly made a beeline for the door. Chatham made to stand but Stretton shook his head at her. Beckett wriggled a little but stayed put.

Stretton took a breath. "Dr Weir, my hesitation is not because of the investigation."

"Is it the lack of oxygen people?" queried Weir.

"The what?" said Sheppard bewildered.

Neither Stretton nor Weir answered him.

"In this matter I answer to my senior officers, the Greater Manchester North Coroner, and the Home Office," said Stretton. "I can justify it if I need to."

"That may not matter," she said. "Who you answer to in the end might not be any of the people you think."

He nodded in agreement but said, "I can only go on what I know, Dr Weir. I'm not reluctant because of people whom I haven't met and whose reaction I can't predict."

"Then what's the problem," said Sheppard.

"You are, Colonel," said Stretton frankly.

Sheppard looked surprised and annoyed all at once. "Meaning?" he said offended.

"I have no intention of taking part in an investigation that has too many chiefs. If my team is going to investigate these deaths then I am in charge-not you. This is not about playing power games; there simply cannot be any confusion as to who is running this investigation. If I tread on toes, and I will, then so be it," Stretton said firmly. "Am I clear?"

Sheppard looked frustrated but nodded unenthusiastically. Stretton turned to Weir.

"Same thing goes for you, Dr Weir," he said. "I don't want your staff whining to you because we're not acting all pretty-like."

"I'm in charge of this expedition, Mr Stretton," she said. "There are some things that I cannot allow."

"I'm sure you'll let me know what they are," he said.

"Look, I know what you're saying," said Sheppard. "You know more about investigating crimes than we do but we know more about Pegasus than you do. For example," he stressed, "it's not such a good idea to go investigate something on a strange planet without an escort-crime scene or no crime scene."

"Are there planets here that aren't strange, Colonel? We did have extensive training at the SGC before we came," said Stretton patiently. "What training did you have in dealing with aliens before you left Earth?"

_It was a fair point_, thought Beckett, and from the look on Sheppard's face, he thought so, too.

"Not much," Sheppard admitted. "I learn quickly."

"So do we, Colonel," said Stretton. "Am I clear?"

Weir nodded. So did Sheppard-reluctantly, but he nodded. "Fine," he said.

"I doubt that, Colonel, but let's see how we get on," Stretton replied. "We'll get started shall we?" To Chatham he said, "Get the others back in here, please."

Chatham stood, as did Beckett. Stretton leaned in close to her and said quietly and to Beckett's mind, startlingly viciously, "Don't ever try to play that card with me again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she said subdued. "I'll, um, get the others."

Beckett followed her as she went out. He looked behind him to make sure no one was watching. He caught her arm.

"You all right, luv?" he asked. "What was all that about then?"

"It's nothing," she said. "It's fine."

"Didn't sound like fine back in there," said Beckett sternly.

She sighed, glanced back, and said, "I asked him what his wife would think."

"His wife? The _Buffy_ fan," said Beckett, a little nonplussed. "What _would_ she think?"

"She's a human rights lawyer," said Chatham. "Spends a lot of her time complaining about police brutality and how the police should investigate this, that and the other."

"Oh, erm, sounds like an interesting relationship," said Beckett.

"Every now and again, I'm just sorry I introduced them," she said. At his look, she went on, "We went to school together."

"Oh. Right then," said Beckett. "Erm, why did you become a police officer?"

"Didn't want to be a handbag, which is the general lot in life for someone of my background. I told my parents I was studying Art History," she reflected. "Best get on, eh?"

She waved down at Tynan and the others hovering at the bottom of the stairs. As they came up, Tynan said, "Everything all right, guv?"

"Dandy," she said. "We have a go."

They moved back into the conference room and sat down. Beckett noticed that Sheppard was still frowning-not a happy lad.

"Right then," Stretton said. "Dr Beckett? Tell us what you know …"

As Beckett started his report, there was a shout from downstairs. Everyone turned to the door and Dr Biro burst in, waving a notepad, completely breathless.

"Dr Biro?" Beckett asked. "Do you have something?"

"You were right, sir!" she said to Stretton. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Beckett, Weir and Sheppard chorused.

"Oh, there's evidence on several bodies that suggest Dr McKay is dead!" she said excitedly.

"What?" Sheppard said.

"No, no, no! He's not there! Dr McKay is not one of the bodies!" she announced with a flair towards the dramatic.

Everyone turned to Stretton.

"Surprise …" he said softly.

_TBC … _

_Note: People sit around and chat. We just never see it on television._

_Next: The police have second thoughts._


	9. Chapter 9

_More chit-chat, in which we delve deeper into fantasy and the usual suspects are discussed._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 9**

There was silence in the room. Dr Biro looked at everyone expectantly and seemed dashed when, other than Stretton, no one responded.

"Don't you see what this means?" she said waving her pad in the air-no mean feat, Beckett believed, those things were heavy.

"Um," said Weir seemingly underwhelmed. "That Rodney isn't one of the bodies but might be dead anyway?"

"He might not be dead!" Biro emphasized. "Isn't that good news?"

"You said there was evidence that he was," Beckett felt compelled to point out.

"So, you can see, Dr Biro, why we might be …" Teyla started diplomatically.

"Confused," put in Ronon.

"Pissed off," said Sheppard.

"Oh, here, look at this," Biro handed the pad to Breen, hitting Beckett on the head with it as she passed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dr Beckett."

Beckett winced and rubbed his head. "Erm, no matter, Dr Biro, thank you," he said.

Breen, Barker, Tynan, Ronon and Teyla crowded around the pad. Breen started muttering. The rest of them muttered back. Stretton seemed content to let it go on but Sheppard was clearly impatient.

"Okay!" he announced. "What does it say?"

All of them looked at him and at each other.

"It says McKay isn't one of the bodies but there's evidence that he's dead," said Ronon. His face was straight and Beckett couldn't tell if he was joking-not that Beckett could ever tell if Ronon was joking. Somehow he didn't ever seem the type.

"Such as?" asked Weir putting a hand on Sheppard's arm.

"Well," said Breen, "essentially, there's a lot of blood. More blood than would be usual for a minor injury. I'd say that Dr McKay was injured, possibly badly, and he … well … um … bled over some of the other victims."

"He was right next to the stargate," said Beckett. "He'd have to have been because Radek said that Rodney pushed him through."

"I should have shot Kolya when I had the chance," said Sheppard suddenly.

"Who?" asked Tynan.

"Acostas Kolya," said Weir.

The police officers stared at her.

"Um, Greek fella?" hazarded Breen.

"He's from a people called the Genii," said Weir. "They're semi-technological. They have guns. They tried to take over Atlantis. We're …" she hunted for the right words "… not fond of them," she finished lamely.

"Very diplomatic, ma'am," said Tynan. "I think we might already have something on them?" He looked in query at Teyla who nodded.

"The reports are on your computer, Sergeant," said Teyla.

"It's got to be them," said Sheppard. "I'm going to kill that son-of-a-bitch."

"You're getting ahead of the evidence, Colonel," cautioned Chatham. "This Kolya person might be responsible but he might not be."

"Look," snapped Sheppard. "I know these people …"

"And we'll check your reports and compare it to the evidence," said Chatham, her voice indicating a hint of impatience. "Dr Beckett, I'd like to hear your report thus far on the autopsies?"

"I think that we should …" Sheppard tried again.

"Colonel, have the courtesy to be quiet or leave," said Chatham flatly.

In the shocked silence, they glared at each other. Depending on their loyalties, everyone else either looked towards Weir or Stretton, the latter of whom looked like he was trying not to laugh. Stretton turned to Beckett.

"Dr Beckett, perhaps you could start again, please?" he said.

With a wary eye on Sheppard who appeared, as his old dad used to say, a wee tad gobsmacked, Beckett said, "Erm, Dr Biro and I did autopsies on the 38 bodies. Causes of death were varied. The bodies had been mutilated-to prevent easy recognition, I assume."

"Dog tags had all been removed," put in Breen.

"Yes," agreed Beckett, "and from some of the bodies, not all were removed post-mortem. Some bodies had severe bruising and cuts on the neck area indicating semi-garroting."

"They're designed to be removed quickly, though," Sheppard said. "That's if you don't mind me contributing, Ms Chatham."

"Not at all, Colonel," she said blandly. "Do go on."

Sheppard reached up and pulled off his dog tags. "See?" he said. "Would they be strong enough to garrote someone?"

"Possibly," Breen said. "If pulled the other way. We'd need to test that out."

"Is it important?" asked Weir. "I mean, what was used to kill them … the garrote used."

"They weren't killed by the dog tags, Elizabeth," said Beckett. "Most of them were shot. Most execution-style, a bullet to the head or back. Some _were_ shot from the front …"

Breen interrupted him. "Since there were less of those than the others, we tackled their DNA matching first. For the most part, the 11 people shot from the front were the military personnel. We ID'd all eight of them. The three scientists were Dr Samuel, from Canada, anthropologist; Dr Duarte, from Brazil, physicist; and Dr Chellappan, from India, also an anthropologist. Dr's Beckett and Biro removed the cartridges and we've handed them over for ballistic analysis and fingerprinting. Most shattered on impact-probably indicating poor quality manufacture-but there's enough to match to guns, if we ever find them. One of your lads, Colonel, is quite the ballistics expert. He's looking at the striae on the cartridges for us. Dr Wells, one of your chemists is doing some work on the gunpowder."

"You identified all of these through DNA?" queried Weir.

"Yes, ma'am?" The upwards inflection of Breen's response made it a question.

"I though you used dental records or something … I don't know much about forensics outside of what I've seen on television," Weir admitted.

"I have DNA profiles of all the Atlantis staff, Elizabeth," said Beckett. "It's easier."

"Beside which, most of their teeth were smashed," said Breen. At Weir turning green, he added, "Er, sorry, ma'am."

"Danny, what about the gunpowder?" asked Stretton.

"Well, not exactly gunpowder, boss," said Breen.

"What do you mean?" asked Sheppard. He was quite meek now, noted Beckett.

"Different combinations of chemicals, sir," said Breen, "No glyceryl trinitrate for a start-which is interesting-but the components that are there have essentially the same effect. Dr Wells is doing a breakdown of what was used."

"Which does what?" asked Weir.

"It will let us know where it was manufactured," said Chatham. "The components used will have different trace elements depending on where they're from."

"Won't that only be useful if you know the place already?" Weir inquired.

"Don't you have a list of usual suspects?" said Stretton. "Colonel?"

"A few," he said.

"Aside from this Greek chap-Kolya," said Chatham. "Pissed off lots more people, have you, Colonel?"

Sheppard looked faintly embarrassed. "A few," he repeated.

"Then, we try the usual suspects to tick them off the list," said Chatham.

"Why Dr McKay?" asked Stretton.

"Huh?" said Sheppard.

"Thirty-eight people dead; Dr McKay missing. Why? The speculative answer is that whoever did it was after McKay in the first place. This Kolya, what would he want with McKay?" asked Stretton.

"McKay's a physicist. They have a nuclear program," said Weir. "We used a few of their bombs when the Wraith attacked Atlantis."

"Thank you, Dr Weir, that explains much. Please keep going Dr Beckett," said Stretton, to the clear frustration of Sheppard and Weir.

As Beckett continued his report, he wondered how long Sheppard would wait before he disregarded his agreement to follow Stretton's lead.

As the meeting broke up, Stretton motioned for Weir and Sheppard to stay behind. He said something quietly to Chatham who hurried out after Tynan. Beckett debated whether to stay or not-invited or not. He slowly shuffled his things together and hovered until Stretton noticed him.

"Sorry, Dr Beckett, please sit down," he said. To Sheppard, he continued, "Colonel, I'd rather not have one of my staff take you to task in front of others, particularly your own team." Sheppard opened his mouth but Stretton held up a hand to forestall him. "Everything has to be considered, Colonel. If we head off in one direction only and it turns out to be incorrect, we just have to go back to the start. From what you've said, it may well be these Genii people but there is also evidence that it may not be them."

"Such as," Sheppard said. "The guns sound like a dead giveaway to me."

"What about the dart?" countered Stretton. "Would the Genii have a dart and know how to fly it?"

"Unlikely," Sheppard replied. He paused for a little too long. "I didn't want to say this but … Elizabeth, it could have been Ford."

"You said Ford was dead," said Beckett.

"Ford?" queried Stretton. "One of your people?"

"Ford was … is … one of my team. During the siege of Atlantis, he got an overdose of the Wraith enzyme and went … well … nuts. He was paranoid, convinced everyone was out to get him, and he decided to take on the Wraith to prove himself. He got himself his own little army of drones, all addicted to the enzyme, too, and set a trap for my team. He got all of us, bar me, addicted to the enzyme as well, and decided to take out a Wraith hive ship. We barely got out of there. Ford escaped. Or was killed. We don't know," Sheppard recited. "He had a dart when he captured us and I guess he could have got another one, even if he needed to find someone to fly it."

"I'll need those reports, Colonel," said Stretton. "Who else?"

"The Menarians?" Weir asked Sheppard.

Sheppard shook his head. "Under the direction of the Genii, maybe." He considered. "The Asurans?" He answered his own question. "They're advanced enough but doesn't really sound like them. I'll get those reports as well. Some bedtime reading for you."

"Is there anyone you haven't pissed off, Colonel?" Stretton looked amused.

"The Athosians like us," said Sheppard defensively.

"Which is probably all to the better. I understand Ms Emmagen is very good at self-defense."

"Ha ha," said Sheppard straight faced.

"What about Michael?" said Beckett tentatively.

"Michael," Weir winced.

"Oh. Michael," Sheppard echoed.

"Once more in unison," said Stretton. "Who's Michael?"

"He's a Wraith," Weir said. "We, uh … we've had some encounters with him."

"A Wraith called Michael," said Stretton.

"They don't give their names so we call them by human names. It annoys them," said Shepherd. "Look, what happened was that …"

"Why don't we put that report in as well, Mr Stretton?" said Weir cutting Sheppard off.

There was a small silence as Sheppard frowned.

"Thank you, Dr Weir. Opposite to your Genii-this Michael would have the dart and the stunner. Would he have the bullets? And aren't they more likely to takeaway their meals rather than mutilate the bodies and bury them?" Stretton asked.

"Maybe that's what we were supposed to think," said Sheppard still frowning abstractedly.

"Isn't that what you did think?" asked Stretton.

"Well, yeah," said Sheppard.

"Okay, we'll add your Michael to the list. Anyone else?"

"Heaps," said Beckett glumly.

"I'll start going over them," Stretton said. "I'll be down in the labs, unless there's anything else you want to bring up now?"

"No," said Weir. "Not at the moment. Thank you, Mr Stretton."

He nodded and left. The rest of them stared at each other.

"Elizabeth?" said Sheppard.

"I'm not sure if telling them about Michael is a good idea," said Weir.

"Why not?" Sheppard said.

"It looks bad," said Beckett.

"It's gonna look bad no matter what, Carson, but he has to know," insisted Sheppard.

"His wife's a human rights lawyer," Beckett said.

And Weir said, "I'd like to avoid any potential moral arguments."

"Won't avoiding it just make it worse if they do find out? Barker knows about it. He only works on the bug and he wasn't here for the whole Michael thing and the aftermath but he knows about it, " said Sheppard shaking his head.

"They could refuse to help," Beckett said. "He'll hit the roof."

"If necessary, we can continue it ourselves," said Weir. "John, please don't tell them. If they find out, they find out, and we'll deal with it then. At the moment it's just another complication."

"I want my objection to this on the record," said Sheppard unequivocally. "I don't like the restrictions Stretton's imposed-okay, so I don't like him telling me what to do-but having agreed to it, I don't think we should be lying to him."

"We're not lying," said Weir. "We're just not telling them everything."

Sheppard stood up, shook his head again, and walked to the door. "Is that what being a diplomat's all about?"

It was late and Beckett considered going to bed. He considered who might be up. He considered who might need to chat. Bed-chat-mess hall. He took a pad and made his way upstairs. The mess was empty. He made himself some tea and sat in his corner to review his report.

"Are we in the shit, Cameron?" came a female voice.

Beckett was startled out of his concentration. He glanced around-it was dimly lit but he could see Stretton and Chatham out on the balcony. Stretton was sitting, his feet up on a rail. Chatham sat on a table, her feet on a chair.

"Hmmm?" said Stretton.

"Are we in the shit?" she repeated.

He gave a short laugh. Beckett shrank into his chair and hoped not to be noticed.

"Katie, love, we are buried so far down, I don't think we're going to get out," Stretton replied.

"Best case scenario?" she queried.

"Best case: we get our arses kicked for not sticking with the brief. You keep your jobs; I lose mine. Worst case … Danny will be okay, lots of forensic labs headhunting him," he said.

"And Ben?"

He shook his head. "Security firm work at best."

She looked around, sighed, and said, "Shit … Dare I ask about us?

"Mmmm," said Stretton. "Lose our pensions, maybe sent down."

"Won't that be fun," Chatham muttered. "Whole bunch of friendly lags for company. We could always just sit around for however long it takes the Daedelus to get back."

"We could," he judged. "Do you want to?"

"I don't know. I have problems with the potential solution," she said.

"Pity you didn't think of that earlier," Stretton said. "Before you played the Alix card."

"Alix would have wanted you to do this," said Chatham. "Wouldn't she?"

"Alix isn't that fond of people, Katie, despite her job. She likes you and for some reason she puts up with me. She wouldn't have liked the conversation that happened after you left."

"Yes," she said. "Sorry."

"And that?" said Stretton indicating something.

"Poor lad turned Q.E. and handed it over," she said. Beckett couldn't see what it was.

They fell silent. Beckett debated going out there and asking a few questions even though it meant admitting to eavesdropping-at least asking what the hell they were talking about. He suspected they'd found out about Michael already. It wouldn't have been that hard. All they had to do was query Barker-unless Sheppard was the "poor lad," of course. The mess door opened and Sheppard walked in. He still looked as drained as he had previously. Sheppard pointed and as Beckett nodded, he walked past and out onto the balcony.

"Hey," he said.

They glanced over at him and Stretton said, "Bring any beer with you?"

"It didn't give you a hangover?" said Sheppard. "It usually does."

"I already had a headache, Colonel," Stretton replied. "What can I do for you?"

Sheppard glanced behind him to where Beckett sat just out of sight. He swallowed and said, "I'm going against orders here but you need to know about Michael."

"The Wraith called Michael," said Stretton idly. "What do we need to know, Colonel?"

Beckett caught his breath. They already knew.

Their expressions didn't change as Sheppard related the details. He didn't leave anything out. After Sheppard's story wound down, there was a silence.

"Thank you for letting us know, Colonel," said Stretton.

"Um, that's it? Sheppard looked puzzled at their lack of reaction. "Carson thought you'd hit the roof."

"And why would I do that, Colonel?" Stretton said, his face and voice expressionless. "Why would I hit the roof because this expedition has engaged in an action that on Earth would likely land each and every one of you in The Hague on war crimes charges? Oh, but the US doesn't recognize the War Crimes Tribunal, does it … Lucky you. Why would I hit the roof because this expedition has made some extraordinary decisions that have affected the safety of said planet Earth? You said when we first arrived that we'd be Wraith fodder by now yet your entire Michael experiment appears to have designed to put Earth in harm's way." Sheppard opened his mouth but Stretton cut him off, his voice now heavily sarcastic. "Be quiet. Even if these actions weren't criminal, and of course, they're not because there's no laws here to follow-you just make it up as you go along, don't you-they are at the very minimum ethically dodgy and downright stupid. And Dr Weir knows it because otherwise she wouldn't have decided to give us a badly edited report. General hint, sunshine, if you're going to give someone an edited report, ensure that it makes sense."

Sheppard looked daunted and lifted his shoulders up then down. "I'm not going to make excuses or provide reasons. We did what we thought was best."

"Not good enough," said Chatham.

"It's done," said Sheppard.

"And we have to live with the consequences, Colonel," said Stretton, his voice expressionless again. "I don't know what I object to more: that it was done in the first place or that my team is now involved. Dr Weir asked if there would be scapegoating." He pointed at Chatham. "There's a scapegoat, for you, Colonel."

"How can your team be scapegoats for us?" queried Sheppard confused.

"You're out of harm's way-of sorts-we won't be. There are other people involved in this who don't like you, Dr Weir, or this entire expedition. If they can't have you or her, they'll take anyone they can get. What do you think is going to happen? We're already out on a limb by investigating these deaths instead of sticking to our brief no matter how much I justify it to my seniors. 'I was following orders' only goes so far. You think we're not going to be asked what things are like here? What we found out?"

"You could lie," Sheppard only semi-suggested.

"For Dr Weir? I don't think so," said Chatham.

"Who are these people?" said Sheppard. "Elizabeth has a lot of pull with the government."

Stretton started to respond with "I don't …" but Ronon came in to interrupt.

"We've got some results," he said. "You didn't answer your radio."

"I'm not wearing a radio, Mr Dex," said Stretton. "I find the ear pieces annoying."

Ronon waved this away. "Ben said to come down to the lab."

_Ben, now, was it? _thought Beckett.

They got up and headed towards the door but Stretton paused as they passed Beckett's table. It wasn't the first time Beckett had thought it but it was the first time someone actually said it to him. Stretton's tone was sardonic.

"First, do no harm," he said. "Good evening, Dr Mengele."

_TBC …_

Notes:_ Ouchy, poor Carson. I always figured that he would be morally conflicted about the whole Michael thing. As to Weir, someone queried me whether she would cover it up if needed and considering how far she's changed her tune from Rising, yeah, she would if she thought it was necessary to get the job done. I always also thought she seemed a bit naïve for a UN diplomat, a group of people who'd have to be thoroughly cynical about other people. I got the impression that Sheppard didn't like the whole Michael business but went along with it because he couldn't see another way out. Plus, I thought it was interesting that the voices of moral reason in _Michael_ were Teyla and Ronan, the two people you'd think were the most likely to agree to it. They objected to it (for different reasons, of course) but they were the only ones that came out of that episode, IMO, without looking completely unethical._

_Sent down: sent to prison._

_Lags: criminals._

_Q.E.: Queen's Evidence, become an informant, or a whistleblower_

_Next: A conscience beats up it's victim._


	10. Chapter 10

_In which a muse is somewhat cursed for pointing the author in the direction of Michael …_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 10**

Sometimes when he was trying to fall asleep at night he consoled himself that the words weren't in the Oath anyway. Sometimes he cited the part that went, "Except for the prudent correction of an imminent danger …" because the Wraith were indeed an imminent danger. Sometimes he went even further and justified the whole thing by saying that were it not for the bug the Wraith would be human. Sometimes his brain insisted that his research had positive benefits. Most of the time, though, his conscience hiccuped at informed consent. Most of the time it beat him about the head with a large stick over abstaining from acts of mischief. Most of the time it kept him awake at night and he lay there wondering if Elizabeth's conscience ever bothered her. Sheppard had never said what he really thought; he agreed with the Michael experiment but had expressed his reservations and was clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing. That he hadn't said anything to Stretton spoke volumes to Carson Beckett.

He pretended to work. Occasionally his staff would come and ask him a question. He responded as he always did-the warm, kindly, country GP who was beloved by colleagues and patients all. He remembered that Sheppard hadn't met his eyes. In the lab, Teyla and Ronon had acted completely normal-they'd disapproved anyway. Barker was also normal but Beckett got the impression that he would do that with anyone. Breen had given him a searching stare and whenever he had to address Beckett he had spoken to somewhere behind Beckett's shoulder. Tynan had seemed to respond normally but had started an answer as "Yes, Dr Ship …" then had stopped and said, "Dr Beckett." All the Brits in the room had turned their heads to Tynan and then looked at Beckett without saying anything. That was the point where Beckett excused himself and went on a despondent walk back to the infirmary.

He tried to concentrate on writing his autopsy report-rewriting it. Dr Biro had already completed hers, of course, making him look inefficient as usual. He pulled up the tape of her report in curiosity to listen to what questions Chatham had asked. They were much the same as Stretton's. Two peas in a pod-or they'd done this many times before. He still had questions over what roles the team played in The Met but at this stage he didn't think he wanted to ask. He tried looking at it from their point of view, putting himself in their shoes, and it was all too easy. War crimes-he hadn't thought of that.

"Carson, why do you care what they think?" came Sheppard's voice. "Is it because they're from Britain or what? It's done. Stop worrying about it."

"That's easy for you to say, Colonel," said Beckett turning to him. Sheppard had pulled up a chair and had his feet up on another. "It's not because they're from the UK. If I didn't care, I wouldn't be human."

"You think the Wraith care?" countered Sheppard. "Or do you think all they care about is food?"

"Like Rodney?" inquired Beckett dryly. "I can't speculate about Wraith motivation. We don't know enough about them."

"So, we can only go on what we know," stressed Sheppard. "And what we do know is that there's a hell of a lot of people who the Wraith use as food and that the Wraith also want to find Earth to use as a new feeding ground."

"You didn't approve of the Michael experiment, Colonel," said Beckett with certainty.

Sheppard paused. "No," he admitted. "I thought it was dangerous. But, if it's a choice between Earth and the Wraith, I know which one I'm going to choose."

"Bad things happen in war?" asked Beckett ironically. "He isn't wrong in his analogy, Colonel."

"You're not Mengele, Carson," said Sheppard.

"Aren't I?" said Beckett in a near whisper. He stared at the picture of Kenmore above his desk.

"No," said Sheppard. He moved over to Beckett's desk. "Otherwise, you'd have turned your calendar over." He gave Beckett's shoulder an awkward pat, the touch of a man unused to giving comfort.

"What about Elizabeth?" Beckett asked Sheppard. "Do you think she stays awake at night?"

Sheppard opened his mouth to answer but shut it again as he considered the question. Finally he said, "Yes."

The pause had been too long for Beckett's liking. "You're sure?" he asked.

Sheppard paused again. "No," he said. "I don't know."

"That bothers me," said Beckett.

Beckett didn't know if Sheppard's hesitant "Yes" in response was because it bothered him, too. Beckett trusted Elizabeth but sometimes she worried him more than perhaps she should. He changed the subject.

"What did they find?" Beckett asked. "In the lab. Ronon said they had something."

"The bullet contents," said Sheppard. "They had a partial match to minerals or whatever from the Genii homeworld. We had boots with dirt on them from Kolya's men. The usual suspects."

"The usual suspects," Beckett echoed. He examined Sheppard's face. It had that look of slight blankness he got whenever the Genii's attempted takeover of Atlantis was mentioned-Sheppard the ruthless. "How sure are they?"

"Hedging their bets," said Sheppard. "But it gives us something to go on. I thought you might want to know."

Beckett nodded in thanks, as much for the unspoken "I wanted to check up on you" as for the information. One of his nurses waved for his attention. "I'm wanted in the infirmary, Colonel. Thank you for letting me know."

"You going to be okay, Carson?" Sheppard eyed him.

"I don't think I should ever have left Earth," said Beckett mournfully. He realized how pathetic that sounded and decided to just wave Sheppard off. "Go, I'm fine." The Colonel looked unconvinced. "I'm busy, Colonel. There'll be plenty of time to feel sorry for myself later."

He made shooing motions with his hand and walked as unconcernedly as possible over to the nurse. He could feel Sheppard's eyes on him but when he turned back Sheppard had gone. War crimes-he hadn't thought of that.

Other people came by-interestingly, Elizabeth did not. Teyla dropped in on the pretext of a slight headache. What she really wanted was an explanation of the "Dr Ship" reference and why it made him leave. He hedged, he um-ed, he ah-ed, he did a cursory examination "Just in case the headache was something else, Teyla, love," and then he outright lied. It was from a musical, he said, like that _Sound of Music_ film they'd watched the other week. He acted just a wee bit embarrassed. Teyla left looking as unconvinced as Sheppard had earlier and he supposed she would go to Sheppard to ask him. Or, he thought slightly bitterly, she'd go to her new best pal DS Tynan who most certainly would give her the correct answer.

"Conscience is the trade name of the firm," a voice said behind him.

"Dorian Gray," said Beckett turning to face Stretton, who was standing just inside the door. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there's nothing I could say that you haven't already considered," he said.

"You're a condescending bastard," said Beckett with a flash of anger.

"This isn't news, Dr Beckett," said Stretton. "My wife says it at least twice a day-along with words like 'patronizing' and 'arrogant' and phrases like 'holier-than-thou' and 'full of yourself.'"

"And she married you, why?"

He gave a faint smile. "Alix was engaged to a well-to-do stockbroker of fine lineage at the time we met. She maintains that running away with a poorly paid police constable from the Moss was an act of rebellion against her parents whose upper class conservatism she loathed. I've never met them."

"And you?" Beckett, despite his dislike of Stretton - or at least, the dislike of the forced resurfacing of his conscience-was curious.

The pale blue eyes looked him over and Beckett was surprised when Stretton walked over and handed him a photo. And he had thought Chatham looked like a model.

"I was a bit dazzled," said Stretton softly in understatement.

"Children?"

"Three girls. I'm henpecked at home, Dr Beckett, and must take out my frustrations on my colleagues," Stretton relayed blandly.

Beckett snorted. "Is that an apology?"

"Do you want one?" Stretton tilted his head.

About to respond, Beckett saw a blur and Stretton, despite his size, was slammed up against the infirmary wall.

"You're damned straight you owe Carson an apology," snarled Laura Cadman, her finger in Stretton's face.

Stretton looked briefly surprised and then amused but Cadman didn't notice.

"How dare you say that about Carson! Likening him to a monster!" she went on fiercely. "You have no idea what's going on here, do you? How would you like being under the threat of the Wraith for months on end? How would you like to be culled? That's what they call it … like … like … seals! Nobody here likes you or your precious little bunch of 'coppers' you patronizing, self-centered, conceited, smug son-of-a-bitch!"

She ranted on and Beckett, hovering, managed to get in "Erm, Laura" when she took a breath. Stretton's eyes gleamed and Cadman finally noticed.

"Oh, don't even think about laughing at me, 'sunshine!'" She put quote marks around the word and pulled her hand back in a fist. "Owwwww! Shit!" she shrieked.

Stretton had caught her hand and Beckett could see him pressing down. Cadman tried to pull away but the increased pressure made her bite her lip in pain. He released her as Chatham called his name from the door.

"A policeman's lot is not a happy one, as the song goes. We're not here to be liked, Lieutenant Cadman. Dr Beckett, perhaps we can continue this conversation when your fan club isn't here," Stretton said apparently no longer amused. He turned to Chatham. "What?"

She eyed him as if to gauge his temper and looked beyond to Cadman rubbing her hand. "Colonel Sheppard is ready for the Genii briefing. Conference room."

"Fine," he said, flicking a gaze over Cadman and Beckett who had unconsciously started rubbing Cadman's hand, too. He nodded at Beckett with a raised eyebrow. "Doctor."

"Are you coming to the briefing, Dr Beckett? I understand that you were here during the Genii's attempted takeover? I'm sure you can be of assistance," said Chatham politely as Stretton left.

"He just assaulted me!" burst out Cadman. "Look at my hand!" She held out her hand, a small red mark appearing where she had rubbed it.

"Erm, to be fair, Laura, you assaulted him first," pointed out Beckett. "I think he was actually going to apologize."

"What did he say?" asked Chatham curiously.

"He asked if I wanted one … an apology," said Beckett.

She snorted. "That's about as close to an apology as you'll get, Dr Beckett. Take it as read. And you," she said pointing at Cadman, "Try not to piss him off."

"I'm armed," said Cadman folding her arms.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Chatham. "So is he." She shook her head and left, saying, "Briefing, Dr Beckett."

Beckett and Cadman stared at each other.

"So," said Beckett. "Still think he's dead sexy?"

Cadman looked at her hand. "I think I'd rather the dead bit at the moment."

"I don't like your chances." Beckett hesitated and then leaned in to give Cadman a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Laura. That was very sweet of you, love."

"How'd he do that, anyway?" She still stared at her hand.

"It's a pressure point. From how he held your hand, the more you pulled away, the more it hurt. I suppose they learn that sort of thing to subdue suspects," said Beckett. "I'd best go to this briefing."

She nudged him towards the door. "Think he'd teach me that trick?" she asked. At his look of dismay, she laughed, her normal good humor reasserting itself. "Come on, Carson laddie, I'll walk you up there."

By the time Beckett and Cadman meandered up to the conference room, the briefing was in full swing. Cadman left him at the door. A pity the conference room table was circular, Beckett thought; there was no chance of him sneaking into the back row so he wouldn't be noticed. Everyone glanced at Beckett but no one said anything.

"Your report said that the Genii sent through reinforcements?" asked Tynan, consulting his computer.

"Not all of them made it," said Sheppard.

"Why not?" asked Breen leaning over to scan Tynan's screen.

"I switched on the shield," said Sheppard simply.

"The iris thing?" asked Tynan with raised eyebrows.

Beckett noted with some surprise that the small silence following Sheppard's expressionless "Yes" was almost respectful.

"So, your Greek chappy, Kolya-bit annoyed was he?" asked Chatham.

"A bit," agreed Sheppard. "Also by being shot and losing out on a ZPM later on Proculus. We didn't get it either but he lost to us for the second time so going home empty handed probably didn't help him."

"And this Ladon-he's now the Genii leader? What happened to Cowan?"

"He's dead. Ladon killed him and took over in a coup," answered Weir. "We've found the Genii more … reasonable since then."

"What happened to Zorba the Greek?" asked Breen.

"Zorba?" asked Teyla looking bewildered.

"Sorry, Ms Emmagen. Bit of a joke. I meant Kolya," said Breen.

"Teyla, please," she smiled at him warmly.

Breen blushed and nodded a little shyly. Tynan threw a pen at Breen's head in amusement; Breen caught it and threw it back.

"Children," said Stretton not looking at them, and as they mumbled, "Sorry, boss," he said, "What did happen to Kolya?"

"Apparently, he was supposed to take over from Cowan but Ladon got in first. Kolya captured me in an ambush and fed me to a Wraith," said Sheppard.

Stretton looked him over. "You look pretty healthy for a man fed to a Wraith, Colonel."

"We had a deal, the Wraith and me. We escaped together and he sort of reversed it. I don't know how or why," said Sheppard. "Doesn't matter. Kolya got away."

"And you didn't just kill him why?" asked Tynan.

"Hang on," said Sheppard looking a little nettled. "Weren't you people all over Carson just recently?"

"Seems to me that this Kolya is out to get you personally and you've had opportunities to get rid of him and haven't taken them," said Tynan. "I'm asking the question, Colonel, not giving approval of the action."

"Your time with SCD has made you a cynic, Ben-unlike the rest of us," said Chatham.

Tynan shrugged.

"Whatever," said Stretton dismissively. "As Kolya had access to a Wraith, would he also have access to a Wraith dart? Even if this was the Genii, and Kolya in particular, we still can't forget the dart and who was flying it. This was a clearly a well-planned operation. Who knew of your visit to this planet? Why did you decide to go there?"

"Teyla?" said Weir turning to the Athosian. "One of your contacts?"

Teyla shook her head. "Ben has already asked me about this. It was one of Halling's contacts. I questioned Halling and he said that the information came from someone he trusted but he did not know how his contact found out about it."

Sheppard listened to this with a slight smile on his face. "I think you're hanging out with DS Tynan too much, Teyla. You're sounding very police officer-like."

Tynan chuckled and Teyla smiled at Sheppard. "Thank you, Colonel."

"So, planted?" Sheppard turned to Stretton.

"What exactly was the information Halling received?" Stretton asked Teyla.

"That there was something strange in the ruins on the planet," she said. "Something that made things not work."

"Something that made things not work-vague enough not to mean anything but interesting enough to check out," Stretton considered. "So, you sent a team there and nothing happened when they were there but when the second group went through, everyone but McKay was killed. Yes, likely a plant. You said earlier, Dr Weir, that the Genii have a nuclear program?"

"Yes," she said. "We used several of their bombs when the Wraith besieged Atlantis."

"How did you get them?" asked Chatham.

"I went to their homeworld and negotiated with them," said Weir.

"The nukes weren't working," put in Sheppard. "McKay and Zelenka put them together."

"So, they could use a physicist," said Breen. Weir and Sheppard nodded. "But, you said that now this Ladon is in charge relations between you are better?"

"Yes," said Weir.

"If Kolya's a renegade, that might let him out of needing a physicist," said Stretton. "Unless he had a couple of bombs he needed fixing."

"He's still our best chance, though, isn't he?" asked Sheppard.

"Well, we can't just knock on their door-gate-and ask if they killed 38 of our people and kidnapped Rodney," said Weir. "And we can't go looking for him there. They live underground."

There was silence as everyone pondered Weir's statement. Stretton tapped his pen on the table.

"Maybe not, Dr Weir," he said thoughtfully. "But perhaps you could invite them over for lunch?"

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_The Hippocratic Oath does not have the words, "First do no harm." It has something similar that I used when Carson was pondering criticism._

_"the Moss": Moss Side, an area of Manchester that had race riots during the early 1980s and a high crime rate usually involving drugs during the 1990s. The place seems to have settled down due to lots of government money being spent there and horrible council flats being demolished but apparently it's still an area of high unemployment against the British national average. And yes, I couldn't resist the cliché of lower class Stretton being married to upper class Alix. There are some clichés too obvious not to use …_

_The pressure point thing: A friend did that to me once to show me how to restrain someone. I don't think it's taught at police school, though! Aside from the initial "ow" factor, it only hurt when I pulled away._

_"Dr Ship …": Dr Harold Shipman, a doctor from Greater Manchester who is said to have been the most prolific serial killer in the world. It's suspected that he killed at least 250 of his patients._

_SCD: Specialist Crime Directorate, an area of The Met that handles serious crime such as kidnaps, homicides, drugs, amongst others._

_This was the second story I've done with original characters and having been asked why elsewhere, my response is thus: Our regular characters reactions become interesting when viewed by outsiders particularly when their actions are questioned, and who better to ask questions than a bunch of people whose job it is to ask questions? I think that police officers probably don't tend to care whether they're liked by the people they're investigating and will tread all over people's feelings without fear or favour if they think it's necessary._

_In my world, the episode Irresponsible does not exist._

_Next: Expeditions are mounted and things go even more haywire._


	11. Chapter 11

_In which it's noted that police investigations take time particularly when there's personal guilt trips to be flung around …_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 11**

Beckett had rather not gone to the mainland at all but Teyla firmly said that he could look at some of his "wee babies" while he was there. He protested. He said he was busy. Finally, Teyla said with more than a little impatience, "Carson!" and he agreed to go. He sounded completely ungracious and she had asked, turning to Ronon, what it was that Dr McInnes had said, that nice scientist from somewhere called Australia.

Ronon put his chin in his hand and looked thoughtful. "Sounded like build a bridge, princess, and get over it."

"Yes," said Teyla brightly, smiling that determined smile at Beckett. "Yes, that was what she said."

Beckett quietly got his medical bag and reminded himself that Teyla was not a person to go up against at anytime. He sat next to Sheppard having been pushed firmly into the seat by Ronan. Teyla and Ronon were in the back of the jumper along with DS Tynan. Chatham and Stretton sat in the secondary cockpit seats. Neither looked at the view. Chatham had a laptop and was scrolling through a report of some sort. Stretton had his head back and his eyes shut, though Beckett didn't think he was asleep.

"Dagan," said Chatham.

"Huh?" said Sheppard twisting his head around to look at her. "What about it? One of their people had a crush on McKay-didn't stop them from not giving us their ZPM, though."

"I'm just reading reports on your Kolya chappy. You said it was Proculus, which seems to be where you met a priestess and had alien sex," said Chatham blandly.

"I didn't … Who? What? Look," spluttered Sheppard. The jumper tilted in midair at an alarming angle.

Stretton opened his eyes and leaned over to look at the screen. Chatham pointed to something.

"Hmmm, yes, alien sex," said Stretton, his voice also bland. "Can you right this thing before we hit the water, do you think?"

The puddlejumper straightened out-a little. Beckett glanced back around at Teyla, who had made a muffled sound. She was trying not to laugh. At Sheppard's glare she hid her mouth with her hand.

"Where?" said Sheppard indignantly. Chatham obligingly turned the screen to show him. "That's McKay's report. We had a … a … difference of opinion. Besides, how the hell would he know whether I had sex, alien or not?"

"He does seem to be a curious sort of fellow," said Chatham a look of innocent inquiry on her face.

Sheppard looked halfway between furious and embarrassed and made a "Hnnnnmpf" sound.

"Anyway, not Proculus as you said but Dagan," said Chatham. "Do all the planets have names?"

"We give them a code designation. Ford always wanted to name things," said Sheppard a little sadly. "He wanted to call this planet Atlantica or something else just as dumb. He wanted to call one place Planet Waterfall. Me, I'd prefer to stick to numbers. I can remember those."

"Most people remember names better," said Chatham.

Sheppard shook his head. "Nope, not me. Who are you again?" he said slightly mocking.

He seemed to be getting along with them quite well now, thought Beckett morosely. He glanced to the back of the puddlejumper where Tynan was also going through something on a computer. Beckett wasn't entirely sure why Tynan was there. Perhaps for the air or just an outing with his new recruits. Ronan was looking at the computer screen with interest. Breen had stayed behind in Atlantis, as had Barker.

Teyla stood to address Stretton who had settled back in his seat, his eyes shut again.

"Mr Stretton?" she asked, sounding a little unsure of herself. He opened his eyes. "May I ask that you be careful"-Carson put in a silent _considerate_-"when speaking to Halling. He is sensitive to accusations that he might betray the Ancestors to others."

"Ancestors?" inquired Chatham.

"The Ancients," Sheppard put in. Chatham nodded her thanks.

"Thank you, Ms Emmagen," said Stretton noncommittally closing his eyes again.

Teyla opened her mouth to press the point again but Chatham touched her hand and shook her head. Teyla frowned at Stretton. Sheppard brought the jumper into land, still at an odd angle. The slightly irritated bump on landing made Chatham smile a little. As Sheppard left the jumper he was swamped by children. Teyla greeted people here and there, as did Ronon who pulled Tynan along with him. Chatham and Stretton looked around assessingly as they had when they'd first arrived in Atlantis and Beckett suddenly realized they were looking for threats.

"Mr Stretton," Teyla called. "Halling is this way."

They made their way through the Athosian settlement. Beckett looked behind him to see if Sheppard was following but he was still covered in kids. The man was a child magnet. Beckett stopped here and there to speak to former patients and had to hurry to catch up with the rest of the team. Halling was standing outside his dwelling, towering over everyone but Stretton and Ronon, and he looked unhappy. Stretton said something quietly to him and Halling scowled but motioned Stretton inside. Stretton nodded to Chatham and Tynan in the direction of the rest of the settlement. Teyla made to go inside the tent but Tynan stopped her and shook his head no.

"Leave 'em be, love," he said. "Is it okay to wander around? Wouldn't mind seeing the place."

Teyla glanced back at Halling's tent. "Would you like some tea?"

Tynan beamed. "Eh, nothing better, love. Guv?"

"I'll have a look around, if that's okay, Teyla?" Chatham asked.

"Of course," said Teyla, looking pleased they'd asked permission. "Would you like someone to escort you?"

"Not at the moment," said Chatham. "Unless it's necessary?"

"No," said Teyla. "We will be in that tent there." She pointed to a large tent in the centre of the settlement.

Chatham nodded and wandered off her hands clasped behind her back. Teyla, Ronon and Tynan headed towards the tent. In the distance, Beckett could see Sheppard still playing with the children. He hesitated-tea or patients? A baby's wail decided him-patients-and he went to work.

It took Beckett some time to extricate himself from his own fan club. The children didn't seem to like him-he was a doctor, after all-but he was popular with their mothers. He walked towards the large communal tent though he'd had tea and Athosian treats pressed on him by his patients. It had rained recently and much of the ground was muddy; Beckett avoided the larger puddles by ducking between a few tents. A called out "Hey" made him stop. He took a quick look around the side of the tent. Sheppard was walking up to Stretton who was leaning against a tree and smoking a cigarette. Sheppard didn't look happy.

"Who is Dr Ship?" Sheppard demanded.

"Huh?" Stretton said surprisingly inarticulately.

"I just had Teyla ask me who Dr Ship was. Tynan called Carson that-remember?- and then he changed it to Dr Beckett. She said Carson told her it was from a musical. Tynan told her just now it was from a Gilbert and Sullivan opera. One of the ones about duty, he said. But I don't think so, not the way Tynan looked when she asked him," said Sheppard.

"They're all about duty," said Stretton.

"That's not what I meant," snapped Sheppard.

"Dr Harold Shipman, a general practitioner from Greater Manchester. Another doctor put in a complaint about him, accusing him of falsifying death certificates for financial gain. Turned out that he was killing his patients, at least 250, probably more, mostly old women," Stretton explained. His voice was bland again.

Sheppard was silent. Finally, he said, "Carson isn't a murderer."

"Isn't he?" Stretton asked testing. Beckett stood frozen, out of sight. "I don't think the Shipman analogy is correct but I know doctors who have been struck off for less than what he's done."

"You don't know what we're up against. You don't know what these people have been through. I didn't agree with what happened to Michael but …"

"Why?" Stretton interrupted him.

"I thought it was dangerous to allow a Wraith free access to Atlantis. It wasn't because of the experiment in the first place," Sheppard replied. "But we had to do something and I'd do it again if I had to."

"But you did do it again, Colonel," said Stretton. "And look what happened."

"I know; I was there."

"So …" Stretton's voice trailed off.

"So, I don't think you should be judging us and I'm over Carson bearing the brunt of it. I didn't say anything before because … because … look I have enough of my own demons and I …" He hesitated and said lowering his voice, "I'm not disagreeing with your war crimes parallel."

"You're not disagreeing with it but you are disagreeing with it," said Stretton.

"It's complicated," said Sheppard. "Elizabeth and I … We're in charge of this expedition and we bear the responsibility for everything that happens and every decision that's made. Carson has enough guilt. You haven't met the Wraith and all the report reading you do won't give you anything other than basic information. It won't tell you what it's like to be fed on."

Stretton paused. "I think I'd rather not."

"No," agreed Sheppard. "Leave Beckett alone."

"Is that an order, Colonel?" Stretton sounded amused but there was something else in his voice. Tiredness, yes, but possibly a measure of respect?

"No, I'm asking," Sheppard said, the tone of his voice saying the opposite. "I agreed to follow your lead on this investigation because I want McKay back but what happened with Michael is outside your remit. I'm asking you to leave Beckett alone."

It was Stretton's turn to be silent. Beckett didn't know if he had nodded or had shaken his head. He supposed he would find out.

"How was Halling?" asked Sheppard eventually.

"Defensive," said Stretton. "As Ms Emmagen said."

"About being accused of-what was it Teyla said?-betraying the ancestors? Or about his friend?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"The former, though I made it clear that I had no interest in him or his ancestors," said Stretton.

"Establish some credibility, did you?" It was Sheppard's turn to sound amused.

"Instant credibility when I said his boy was a good lad," said Stretton.

"You have kids?" asked Sheppard.

"Mmmm," murmured Stretton and changed the subject off his own children, it seemed to Beckett, by saying, "And not a friend, apparently."

"Who?

"The 'friend.' Halling's contact. He's a snout and as with all snouts, his handler doesn't trust him," said Stretton.

"How did you find that out?" asked Sheppard.

There was a pause and Stretton said, with what appeared to be a note of slight aggravation to his voice, "I'm a policeman, Colonel."

"Well, okay, fine," said Sheppard. "What now?"

"Now we go visit Halling's contact to find out what he knows," said Stretton. He paused again. "Colonel, I need to know your intentions if we find Dr McKay."

"We get him back," said Sheppard impatiently.

"What else?" Stretton asked.

"What do you mean?"

"If you find that Kolya, or whoever it was, killed your people and kidnapped Dr McKay, what do you intend to do? Put him on trial? Under what legal code?" asked Stretton.

Beckett hadn't thought of that and from the pained silence, neither had Sheppard. There was a scuffing sound, as though Sheppard was kicking something.

"I just figured you'd do something," admitted Sheppard.

"My job is finding out whodunit, Colonel, not what happens afterwards."

"Then, I guess I need to speak to Elizabeth.," said Sheppard. "You do realize that …"

"I'm not unaware that any potential solution is military, Colonel," interrupted Stretton.

"And you're okay with that?"

"No, but I'm a realist," said Stretton, "but I will not allow my team to be involved in a military action."

There was another silence and Beckett could hear him light another cigarette.

"We better get back to Atlantis," said Sheppard. "I'll round everyone up. Are you coming?"

"Yes," said Stretton.

Beckett could hear footsteps moving away and unfroze his feet. Moving around the front of the tent, he froze again. Stretton was still standing there. He tilted his head on one side.

"Dr Beckett," he acknowledged.

Beckett felt like a deer in headlights. "You knew I was there," he said.

"Yes," Stretton said. "Colonel Sheppard didn't. You're surprised that he defended you, aren't you."

"No," said Beckett. "Yes."

"I'm not. I am surprised he didn't rip into me the first time," said Stretton. "He seems rather fierce when it comes to his own team."

"His team is Teyla, Ronan and Rodney," said Beckett. "I'm not on his team."

"Aren't you?" asked Stretton unexpectedly kindly. "I think Colonel Sheppard might disagree with you there, Doctor."

"I asked DI Chatham why she became a police officer and she said she didn't want to be a handbag," said Beckett changing the subject.

Stretton chuckled. "What else did she say?"

"Not much. She introduced you to your wife. Breen said you were her puppywalker," said Beckett.

"My only puppy," said Stretton. "I'd managed to get out of it previously but in punishment they saddled me with Milady Handbag."

"Is she?" asked Beckett startled.

"Nearly. The Honourable Katherine Chatham," said Stretton. "There's plenty of titles in The Met. Colonel Sheppard is waving at us, Doctor."

"Why did you become a police officer, Mr Stretton?" Beckett held his ground, curious.

"It wasn't out of a burning sense of justice if that's what you're thinking, Dr Beckett. In the not so good old days there were four ways to get out of a council estate. You had to be good at football and I'm not; you could become a musician and I can't hold a tune. You could join the army but I'm not very disciplined and I'm crap at following orders. I chose the police because I could spend most of the day by myself. Shall we go?"

Carson Beckett suddenly realized exactly who Cameron Stretton reminded him of: taller, different colored eyes, far more cynical-no bed hair.

He didn't want to go on the next trip either. But here he was again, in the gateroom, this time squashed between Cadman and Ronon. He asked why he was needed. Sheppard cheerfully said that a Doctor always came in handy and clapped him on the shoulder. Teyla smiled and said it would do him good. He'd asked for what in particular but Ronon had also given him a clap on the shoulder, only Ronon's had hurt.

They left only two hours after visiting the Athosian settlement. Halling had said he would introduce his contact to Stretton and was standing in the gateroom a picture of calm. Or, at least, a picture of depression-Beckett could never tell with Halling. Cadman watched Stretton like a hawk. He didn't seem to notice her at all. Weir had suggested she might go to lend her diplomatic skills. Stretton said, without even looking at her, I don't think so, thank you. Weir looked slightly shocked then discomforted. About to say something she had stopped when Sheppard made slashing motions across his throat. In some small way, Beckett thought the officers had come to terms with Michael and himself but perhaps Weir was still a no go zone.

Everyone geared up as though for combat. Beckett had protested - I'm a bloody doctor, Colonel! - but had a gun shoved at him anyway. Sheppard had offered their gear to the police officers but Tynan said, we have our kit, thanks anyway, sir. Cadman said in Beckett's ear that she wondered if they'd wear that funny helmet and bob up and down. Barker said behind her that police officers often had very good hearing, Laura. It was her turn to look embarrassed.

Their kit wasn't dissimilar to the military anyway. Outside of the heavy belt with all sorts of interesting accoutrements on it-what the hell is that? asked Cadman, as though Beckett would know-and the caps with the standard check trim around them, they might have passed for another Atlantis team.

"You look like you're ready for a battle," Sheppard eyed them.

"Police issue riot kit," said Tynan.

"You should tell me what your area of the police is," said Sheppard.

"Wikipedia, sir, always useful," said Tynan affably.

"And that is?" Sheppard pointed to what looked sort of gun-like but not.

"Baton gun, sir," said Tynan putting on the policeman's bland face.

"And a tazer and …" Sheppard looked him over.

"Other stuff, sir," said Tynan still bland.

"Ben, desist," ordered Stretton. Tynan smiled. "He's on the wind up, Colonel. Are we ready?"

"Uh, yeah," Sheppard looked around. He signaled the control room and the gate dialed. To Beckett he muttered, "_On_ the wind up?"

"He's teasing you, Colonel," said Beckett.

When they stepped through it was late afternoon. The village was a few hundred yards from the gate. There were no trees or bushes between the village and the stargate and the ground was uneven and rocky. The village buildings were made of stone but badly constructed and in poor condition. Beckett tripped over a stone and Breen caught his arm. They walked into the village, everyone moving closer together as if responding to an unspoken threat.

"Okay, this is creepy," Sheppard announced. "Heads up."

"What do you think, boss?" asked Tynan softly.

Stretton looked around. "Special population group. Keep your eyes open," he said. "Halling, is it always like this?"

Halling nodded. "They are a poor people, Mr Stretton."

"What do you trade with them?" Chatham asked.

"Information," said Halling. "In return for food. Gilo is this way."

They followed Halling to what Beckett charitably described later as a hovel. There was something unpleasantly medieval about the whole place. Even the people. He remembered commenting to a colleague when they'd seen _The Name of the Rose_ that it seemed as though casting had found any person who looked like they belonged in the time of the Inquisition. Badly nourished, rotten teeth, the air of hopelessness, everything indicated that these people were on the verge of extinction. The smell was … it was the stench, he thought, of death.

"Bring out your dead," said Breen staring around him.

Sheppard had his hand over his mouth and nose. Their group moved even closer together; most of them looked queasy. Ronan and Tynan had gone. Beckett didn't know where. Throwing up in a corner, perhaps, he thought, his own stomach churning from the smell.

"Colonel," Stretton motioned Sheppard over. "I'm going to speak to this Gilo with Halling and Kate. Make sure we're not disturbed, if you would."

"You're going in there?" said Sheppard clearly revolted. He glanced about him and motioned to his troops to take up positions. "Teyla, keep an eye on the gate."

"Where are Ronon and Ben?" asked Teyla looking around.

"Tynan is elsewhere," said Stretton repressively, as to not invite questions.

Sheppard nodded at Stretton in understanding and then towards the gate to Teyla. With one last look she left, not looking pleased.

"This is not good," said Sheppard to Stretton, his voice tense.

"No, Colonel, it isn't," said Stretton. "We'll be as fast as possible. Danny, Ade, stick with Dr Beckett, please."

"Sir," said Breen.

"Gilo," Halling called. "It is Halling. I bring food."

He ducked into the dwelling-hovel, Beckett shuddered-with Stretton and Chatham behind him.

Sheppard motioned Cadman over and pointed at Beckett. "Stay with them," he said.

"Yes, sir," she said subdued.

The four of them moved off, the villagers, Beckett was dismayed to see, scuttled away when they approached.

"Let's not wander too far, eh?" Breen said uneasily.

"I want to see if I can help some of these people," said Beckett, letting his backpack fall to the ground.

"No," said Breen and Cadman together.

"I'm a doctor and I have medical supplies," said Beckett gently.

"No, Carson," said Cadman in an edgy voice.

"What about helping people?" he challenged Breen. "That's what you're supposed to be doing."

"Protecting people, Doc," said Breen picking up Beckett's backpack and handing it back. "And right now I'm protecting you. I'd rather things not go completely pearshaped because you decide to go all gallant on us."

"Danny," said Barker in a warning voice. "The natives are getting restless."

The villagers had started creeping towards them when Beckett let his backpack drop. Breen flicked a glance behind them. They'd moved out of sight of the hovel. He shoved Beckett backwards and Barker with him, and Beckett realized that the Atlantis scientist wasn't armed. Did Specials carry guns? Beckett didn't know. Cadman raised her P90 protectively.

"We're going now," said Breen. "Lieutenant?"

"I'll take your six," she said.

Breen nodded but in an echo of Lorne falling in slow motion, his head went backwards and blood sprayed Beckett's face. Breen smashed into the ground, the rock that hit his head rolling to Beckett's feet.

"Danny!" cried Barker, as Cadman yelled, "Back off, back off now" at the villagers. She fired one shot into the ground and the villagers panicked. Beckett knelt at Breen's side, reaching for his radio to call Sheppard. There was blood everywhere. Beckett had just tapped the button when he heard a whoosh in the distance. Cadman turned towards the gate in alarm.

"Colonel? Colonel?" came Teyla's voice through the radio.

_Oh god,_ thought Beckett.

"Colonel Sheppard! The Wraith!"

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_The lines about G&S being all about duty are blatantly ripped off from The West Wing episode 'And It's Surely to Their Credit' for I love my Sorkinese and my G&S and rarely miss an opportunity to cite either_

_A snout is a police informant._

_One from a previous chapter that I didn't explain-puppywalker: a more experienced officer who does on-the-job training with a probationary police constable._

_On the wind up: instead of saying "You're winding me up" they'd say "You're on the wind up." Don't ask me, I'm not English nor am I a police officer._

_Special Population Group: people who don't behave rationally due to some form of mental impairment-drugs, mental illness, could be anything._

_Pearshaped: as explained by Dave Quinnan to a fancy restaurant owner in an episode of The Bill, this is a "technical term." It means something going badly wrong._

_Next: We kinda sorta meet the Wraith but don't._


	12. Chapter 12

_In which the Scottish vernacular is broken out ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 12**

At the most inappropriate moments sometimes, things just popped into Carson Beckett's head. He was in the filthiest, most depressing place he'd ever been in. He had an unconscious police officer lying at his feet bleeding profusely from a head wound. He had Lt Laura Cadman yelling at him to get up, to pick up the cop so they could get the hell out of there. He had screaming, panicking villagers running in what his old mum would describe as "hither and yon." He could hear the sound of gunfire and all he could think of was where the term "to hell in a hand basket" came from.

"For fuck's sake, Carson, snap out of it!" Cadman actually kicked him.

"Come on, Doc, let's get Danny out of here," Barker urged him.

"He shouldn't be moved," said Beckett tensely.

"You are nuts, you know that?" said Cadman in a tone that seriously doubted his sanity.

Beckett clicked his radio. "Colonel, this is Dr Beckett"-there was comfort in giving his title-"DC Breen is unconscious. He has a head wound."

It wasn't Sheppard who answered. "Where are you, Doctor?" came Stretton's voice.

Cadman responded, "We're about half a click from where you were. Centre of the village, head two o'clock."

"On my way," said Stretton calmly as though nothing was happening.

"Negative," said Sheppard. "Head towards the gate and stay out of the Wraith's way. I'll go back for them. Teyla?"

"Colonel, there is no shelter between the village and the stargate," she replied. "I am in the first row of buildings but they appear to be encircling the village to enter it, not just from the one direction."

"They were already here?" asked Sheppard sharply.

"I did not sense them, Colonel," said Teyla.

"Doesn't matter," said Sheppard. "Everyone fall back to that first row of buildings in the village if you can. Beckett?"

"DC Breen shouldn't be moved, Colonel," said Beckett. "I don't know the extent of the injury. It could be superficial …"

"Or his head could fall off," said Stretton appearing at Beckett's side, Cadman whipping around when she heard his voice. "Lieutenant," he acknowledged, his face's calmness matching his voice. "Doctor, I think we need to take the chance that it's superficial. He is from a long line of Millwall supporters after all."

"Sir?" said Chatham also appearing from nowhere, Halling with her, holding Gilo by the back of his shirt. Beckett noted with detachment the signs of malnutrition, the crazed look, and less detachedly, the odour. "What about smelly here?"

"They are come, they are come!" Gilo said in almost religious ecstasy. He repeated it over and over until Chatham snarled, "Shut it!" Halling shook him and his voice went to a mumble.

"Will we take him back with us?" Chatham asked.

"You want to bring him back to Atlantis?" asked Cadman in tones of amazement. "Carson, are we going or not?"

"I still need to speak to him and things are a little fraught right now," said Stretton betraying some tension. "Katie, get him back to where Sheppard said to meet and we'll see how things go." She wavered. "Now, Inspector," he snapped. "Halling, go with them and keep hold of Gilo."

With a haunted look at him she left, her gun out. She moved carefully, glancing around her looking for threats. Halling followed, dragging Gilo along with him. Beckett could hear Gilo's voice raised again and then a thumping sound. He prayed that Halling had just hit his recalcitrant informant. Better that than the Wraith.

"Ade, Dr Beckett, pick up Danny," said Stretton. "Lieutenant?"

Cadman moved out in front just as Sheppard arrived with two marines. He opened his mouth, changed his mind, and pointed at Stretton as if to say "Later." He said to Cadman, "On point."

Beckett carefully helped lift the unconscious detective, tsking as blood dripped everywhere. He didn't think it was too serious but he wouldn't have minded a neck brace just in case there was more damage than Breen's bleeding head. Barker, whom Beckett had thought was too slight to carry much at all, held the policeman up, resting Breen's head on his shoulder.

"Diet, Danny boy, a diet for you," he grunted.

"You're right then? asked Beckett. "I can …"

"I got him, Doc," said Barker in a "he's my mate" tone.

"Hurry it up, kids," said Sheppard trying not to sound impatient.

Beckett nodded at him to indicate their readiness. Stretton looked closely at Breen's head wound, winced, and touched the detective on the face gently. He, too, nodded at Sheppard.

"Ronon?" Sheppard clicked his radio. "Where the hell are you and Tynan?"

Ronon's voice came through a crackling radio. "Behind a rock."

"Big rock?" Sheppard hazarded. "Tynan?"

"Big rock," Ronon agreed. "Ben's behind the gate."

"What the hell is he doing behind the gate?" Cadman wanted to know.

"Clear view of the village," Sheppard responded in immediate understanding. "I really want to know what training that guy's had-and what he's got in that backpack."

"A lot of training and I try not to ask," said Stretton. "Are we going?"

Sheppard inclined his head at Cadman who moved out slowly to allow Barker to half carry, half walk his burden without dropping him. Beckett distractedly noticed how each person with them moved. Cadman pointed her gun towards anything that looked like moving, whipping it around quickly. Sheppard was careful, like a hunter stalking prey. Stretton moved, surprisingly for a tall man, like a cat. Unlike the military, his gun was pointed downwards. Beckett didn't know if that was procedure or not. They didn't meet any Wraith. Beckett didn't know why; it wasn't as though the village was large. They could hear them-or rather, they could hear the screaming and the sudden choked silences. And fair enough, he knew very little about the Wraith but he had to query whether the villagers constituted anything more than a snack. That thought pulled him up; he had to stop thinking.

It took them half an hour to make their way back through the village. The journey to Gilo's house-hovel, Beckett amended-from the stargate had originally taken only a few minutes. They found Teyla, the other marines, Chatham, Halling and Gilo, the latter mumbling to himself, crouching behind what used to be a courtyard wall.

"Teyla," Sheppard acknowledged. "What's happening out there?" He peered around the wall quickly and ducked his head back in.

"Most of the Wraith are inside the village," she said. "Did you not meet any on your way?"

Sheppard shook his head. "That's kinda odd."

"Maybe they have heard of you, Colonel," Teyla said straight-faced, "and are avoiding you."

"Very funny," Sheppard said. "Now what?" He turned to Stretton. "What about mumbles?" He pointed at Gilo.

"If we leave him here, the Wraith will take him," said Stretton. It was a sort of question, Beckett supposed. Sheppard nodded. "Can't leave him here then."

Sheppard nodded again. "Okay, we take him back through the gate. Have to get through the gate first, of course."

"That would be helpful," said Beckett slightly sarcastic. "For DC Breen, at least. I want him to have a brain scan."

"You'll be lucky," said Chatham immediately.

Stretton snorted softly. "Yes, thank you, DI Burnside," he said.

"Should I ask who Burnside is?" Sheppard looked puzzled.

Beckett knew who Burnside was and felt his patience slipping at the chatter. "Or we could leave," he said pointedly. "We're just sitting ducks here."

"Carson," Sheppard said patiently. "Until we can get to the gate without the Wraith stunning or eating us, we're staying put. I don't know how the hell we got here without meeting any of them but except for those ugly bastards between us and the gate, they seem to be happy munching down the villagers."

"And better them than us?" Beckett heard his voice rise in protest and saw the police officers stare interestedly between he and Sheppard.

Sheppard looked annoyed. "They're that way if you want to volunteer for supper." He pointed back in the direction they came. As Beckett opened his mouth to snap back the radio clicked.

"Sheppard," Ronon said.

Sheppard ducked his head out and motioned to Stretton who also took a look.

"That one has a face," Stretton observed.

"The ones without faces seem to be drones of some sort," Sheppard said. "I'm just guessing. The ones with the …"

"Nice leather coats," Chatham took a peek.

"Yeah, them," said Sheppard. "Officers, maybe, if they have officers."

"Leather coat does seem to be giving orders," Stretton said. "Colonel, what would happen if leather coat were to be dead?"

Sheppard stared at him. "Are you suggesting an execution here, _sunshine_?" He didn't sound displeased with the suggestion, though.

"I'm proposing that we get out of here," said Stretton impassively.

Sheppard bit his lip and slowly nodded. He clicked his radio. "Ronon, can you hit the Wraith in the coat from where you are?"

"I can," responded Tynan for the first time. "I don't think Ronon can."

"No," said Ronon. "Bad angle. I'd probably hit you."

"Where the hell are you?" said Sheppard.

"Big …" said Ronon.

"Rock," finished Sheppard. "I can't see any big rocks."

"That's the idea," said Ronon.

Sheppard took a breath. "Right. Tynan? Take the guy out." There was silence and Sheppard said into the radio, "Did you get that?"

"Yes, Colonel. Mr Stretton, sir, I have a clear shot," Tynan said as though he was formally asking for permission. Perhaps he was, thought Beckett.

"Take it when ready," said Stretton. He scowled down at his hands. "And the others if you can," he added.

Sheppard looked comically wondering at Tynan deferring the decision to fire to Stretton and shook his head. As the seconds ticked by, they all-almost as one-raised their heads carefully above the wall to look at the Wraith in the middle of the field between the stargate and the village. The Wraith was gesturing to the "drones" as Sheppard had dubbed them.

And then the Wraith's head exploded all over his nice leather coat. It splattered everywhere. In quick succession, the two drones fell on their faces. Beckett speculated clinically that since their heads didn't also explode the skulls could be thicker. He'd never autopsied one to find out. Sheppard's jaw dropped.

"Uh okay," he blinked. "Um, right, let's wait a few seconds to see if that was noticed-though those shots were suspiciously quiet."

"Yes, they were," said Stretton looking thoughtful and still frowning.

"Tynan, you're closest to the gate. You know the address to dial?" Sheppard said into his radio.

"Yes, sir," Tynan replied.

Beckett noticed that Stretton's frown deepened.

"Cadman, Teyla, on point. Beckett, you three in the middle. You," he indicated the four marines, "protect them. Ronon, provide some cover from where you are. Keep an eye on the village. Should have brought more marines," he said to Stretton. "That was really stupid."

Beckett didn't know if Stretton's shrug was in agreement or not. They left the shelter of the wall, Beckett helping Barker not to stumble as they moved out onto the rocky ground.

"Sheppard!" Ronon snapped into his radio.

"Fuck, move it!" swore Sheppard.

The Wraith were coming through the village towards them, firing their stunners. The space between the village and the gate seemed to have grown between their arrival and their leaving. Beckett didn't think there were that many-20 maybe?-mostly the drone types. Here and there, the Wraith fell-that gun again. By now, even Beckett was curious as to what the hell sort of gun that Tynan had. Ronon appeared ahead of them, off to one side. Everyone picked up the pace but Halling's hold on Gilo loosened as he stumbled over a stone and lost his footing. The smelly little man turned back towards the Wraith holding his arms out, singing in ecstasy. Chatham reached out to grab him and tripped, bumping into Teyla who also tripped; Cadman, now behind her, leant down to pick her up and Beckett, detachedly wondered why every time he saw someone hit with a Wraith stunner it appeared in slow motion-he'd have to mention it to Heightmeyer. Cadman moaned, hitting the ground and Chatham with an audible thump. Sheppard, in turn, fell over Cadman, landing on Teyla. This was, Beckett thought crossly, no time for a physical comedy routine.

Sheppard rolled to his feet immediately and snapped, "Don't just stand there, Carson. Help or move!"

As Beckett leant down to pull up Cadman, Sheppard pushed him over and ducked himself as a Wraith blast went over their heads. Stretton looked down at them, preternaturally calm. To Beckett, even more cross now-idiotically cross under the circumstances-Stretton seemed immune, both to the Wraith stunners and falling over. Beckett looked back to the gate. Tynan was dialing it up; Barker had almost reached the DHD and when the gate whooshed, Tynan ran to Barker and almost hauled them to the gate to hurry them up. Beckett winced as Breen's head flopped around. Millwall supporter, he repeated to himself. He'll be fine.

"Oh shit, I've done my ankle," Chatham cursed as Stretton pulled her up. She put her weight onto her foot and tried a few paces. "Crap!"

"Come on," Stretton reached out to her and ducked as a Wraith fired a stunner close to his head. "Colonel?"

"Oh, so _now_ he defers to me?" muttered Sheppard, also ducking. "Keep moving folks. Shit! Ronan!" As Ronan was hit by a stunner, Sheppard bolted towards the Satedan, firing his P90 as he staggered over the rocky ground.

Beckett hauled up Cadman and shoved her over his shoulder. "Sorry love," he muttered. "Mr Stretton?"

"I can walk," Chatham said. "And Halling can help me. Go help the Colonel." Stretton uncharacteristically hesitated. "And get little smelly," she added as Gilo wandered into view, arms still out and singing. Stretton nodded and headed towards Halling's informant. The marines took their six and backed up forcing them towards the gate.

Barker and Breen had disappeared into the wormhole. Tynan was crouched down taking aim at the Wraith with what looked to Beckett like a sniper's rifle. He wasn't an expert but he'd seen a few marines with similar weapons. Police issue kit my backside, he thought. He recognized his detachment and tried pulling himself together. Around him, everyone was lurching either towards the gate or towards Ronon, all of them ducking and weaving away from the Wraith blasts, but he felt removed from it all. An appointment with Kate Heightmeyer would do him the world of good. He'd make one as soon as he got back. And there he was doing it again; he slapped himself inwardly. The gate shut down as they reached the DHD, Halling now half-carrying Chatham, the Inspector looking annoyed. Tynan immediately began dialing again, swift, practiced movements as though he'd been doing it all his life.

"Come on, Cameron," Chatham said anxiously, adding. "I am seriously sorry, Dr Beckett. Do what you like with the pricks."

"Guv," said Tynan as the wormhole established. "You want me to go back and help?"

"Stay here and cover them," she said, chanting, "Come on, come on" under her breath. "No!"

Stretton had grabbed Gilo, just as a leather-coated Wraith reached them. He let go of the little villager, jerking out of the Wraith's reach. He tripped, falling backwards. The Wraith shoved Gilo away and pulled his hand back and then down towards the policeman's chest. To Beckett's amazement, Stretton, on his back, grabbed the Wraith's hand, just as he had Cadman's in the infirmary. The Wraith looked startled, pulled away, hissed in what looked from this distance to be pain-just as Cadman had-and as he leant back down using his superior strength, Stretton, with his other hand, put his gun into the Wraith's mouth and fired. The Wraith, in turn, fell backwards, blood and brain matter splattering everywhere. Stretton got to his feet slowly, clearly shaking. After a couple of seconds, he headed towards Gilo, who was wandering in the direction of Sheppard and Ronan.

"Bloody hell," said Tynan, obviously taken back. "Uh, Dr Beckett, the gate?" He and the marines pushed the four of them forwards. Teyla started towards Sheppard but Tynan pulled her with him. "Get this lot through first, love."

Of course, Beckett thought, human physiognomy-the Wraith were stronger to be sure but had human skulls just the same; they had overgrown hands but when it came down to it, human hand just the same-of sorts, he amended. He should look at discussing Wraith physiological weaknesses with Dr Biro when he got-_oh, stop it, Carson_, he scolded himself. A moan from Cadman and what felt like an attempt at a pinch, brought him back to reality.

As he got to the gate he looked back to make sure the others were following. Sheppard had got Ronon to his feet and was dragging him back to the gate. A Wraith had almost reached them when it stumbled over a rock and fell. Stretton, without slowing his pace, pulled back his foot and kicked it in the head as he passed. The Wraith didn't get up.

Halling pulled Chatham into the wormhole and as Tynan made to push Beckett and Cadman through, Beckett grabbed his arm losing his balance as he did. The three of them fell into the gate and out into the Atlantis gateroom, Cadman giving what would have been a yowl had her facial muscles not been stunned.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for, ya gowk?" snarled Tynan.

"There were more Wraith coming," said Beckett. "I lost my balance. Look, I'm sorry …"

"Ah, dry yer eyes, ya keech," said Tynan angrily.

Beckett shut up as ordered. Another moan from Cadman and a rush of medical personnel allowed him to gather his tattered dignity, even if he was likely the only person in the Pegasus Galaxy to understand anything Tynan had said. As he busied himself ordering tests on Breen-in the infirmary and already ordered Dr Beckett, one of his orderlies said-he still took a moment to glance at the gate. After a moment Teyla arrived firing her P90 back through the wormhole. Weir was hovering. The marines holding their guns at the ready would hit more Atlantis personnel than any Wraith coming through.

The wormhole shimmered and shut down.

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Millwall supporters: Sly reference to football hooliganism._

_Gowk: a fool_

_Dry yer eyes: stop whinging_

_Keech: essentially Tynan called Beckett a piece of shit. Hmm, what will the consequences be?_

_Next: We meet Beckett's madmen._


	13. Chapter 13

_In which Dr McKay is mentioned. Remember him?_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 13**

There was silence in the gateroom and it went on for far too long for Carson Beckett's liking.

"Teyla?" he asked sharply. "What was happening?" When she didn't answer immediately he snapped, "Well? What?"

She looked a little shocked at his tone. "The marines guarding the gate went back to help Colonel Sheppard."

Weir said soothingly-annoyingly-to Beckett, "They'll be able to dial back as soon as they get to the DHD. They'll be …"

Tynan interrupted her tersely. "Where was Mr Stretton?"

Teyla replied, "He was helping Colonel Sheppard with Ronon. They were halfway across the field. I had to come through the gate. The Wraith were …" She stopped.

"The Wraith were what?" Tynan asked. "Where were they?"

"They were … they were surrounding them," Teyla said quietly. "They were at the DHD. Colonel Sheppard ordered me to go through the gate. I refused but he said that I had to let you know what was happening."

"Shit!" Tynan swore. He glared at Beckett and shook his head. To Chatham he said, "Guv? What now?"

Chatham was ashen but she had on her bland police officer's face. "Dr Weir, what is your normal procedure in these circumstances?" At Weir's uncomfortable silence she said, "Or don't you have a procedure?"

"I can't authorize a rescue mission without knowing what we may be up against," Weir said. "They may already be dead."

Tynan lost it. "Look, lady, fucking well do something," he barked. "At least see if you can dial in for chrissakes!"

"Ben …" said Chatham.

"What if he _is_ dead, guv?" asked Tynan, almost immediately subdued. That was odd, thought Beckett. Was it Chatham who made him calm down or did he do that all by himself?

"Then Dr Weir can explain it to Mr Stretton's wife," said Chatham, her voice expressionless. "And then she'll feed the good doctor to the kids, rabid little tykes that they are, god love 'em."

To Beckett's mind, the Inspector was being a trifle unreasonable. Weir stared at Chatham clearly unsettled.

"I was just about to order the planet be dialed, Detective Inspector," she said coldly. "You should get that ankle seen to."

Chatham was still leaning on Halling but waved this away as Weir spoke to the gate tech. Beckett knew that he should go to the infirmary but he wasn't about to leave with all this going on. _It wasn't my fault_, he said to himself. _I am not to blame_. He watched Tynan surreptitiously. The Glaswegian held that unusual looking sniper's rifle downwards. He was clearly tense but was completely, perfectly still.

The wormhole established itself and cast the gateroom in shades of blue.

Weir touched her earpiece and said, "Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir." Nothing. She repeated, "Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir, please respond." Again, nothing.

Everyone in the gateroom glanced around and shuffled their feet. All but Beckett and Tynan.

"Not now," came Sheppard's voice.

A cheer broke out but was quickly muffled as people shushed each other to listen. Tynan didn't move but Chatham bit her lip, folded her arms, and looked briefly afraid before stilling her face again.

Weir smiled. "John, what's …"

He interrupted her. "I said, not now!"

"I don't understand," Weir started to say. "Is everyone all right?"

Sheppard was clearly gritting his teeth as he spoke, enunciating each word. "We will be if you get off the radio. Shut down the gate."

The gate shut down. Weir looked up at the gate tech who lifted his hands in an I-was-ordered-to-shut-down-the-gate-so-don't-blame -me shrug.

Everyone looked bewildered. Chatham tugged on Halling's arm. He helped her to the control room steps and she sat down. After a moment, Tynan sat next to her.

Beckett cleared his throat. "I'll get someone to look at that ankle while you're waiting," he said. She looked up, nodded gratefully, and returned her eyes to the gate. "I'll be in the infirmary, Elizabeth."

Weir appeared to be trying to remain calm or rather, trying not to look upset. Beckett suspected that it was more due to Sheppard's tone than anything else. He considered the peculiarities of their relationship. Two strongminded people who had little in common, brought together by their jobs. He knew that they respected each other but outside of the commonality of Atlantis, he had always doubted that they'd even be friends. As he was tugged away by various medical staff wanting his opinion on … he wasn't listening anyway … he considered that when she first started Elizabeth had muted her persona so much that she appeared too stiff and disinterested. It was only Sheppard challenging her that brought out her naturally dirty fighting skills.

He found comfort in medical things. He examined the brain scan results for Breen who had woken up, said, "Nnnngh" and had fallen asleep. Concussion and a few stitches, nothing more. He was fine. Cadman, on the other hand, clearly furious with herself for being stunned, took a little more work. No, Laura, you have to stay in the infirmary; Yes, Laura, you can throw something at me when you're able to move; I'm pretty sure I understood that one. See? You're getting better already. He sent someone down to the gateroom to check on Chatham's ankle-only twisted-had it bandaged up and let her know that Breen would be okay. Barker was sitting with him. All the while, a conga line in his head was chattering away nervously: what if they're dead? what if they're dead? what if they're dead? What he didn't do was call Kate Heightmeyer. The damned woman smiled too much.

Weir called him an hour later to say that they were going to dial back in. No matter what Sheppard wanted, it had been too long. He headed back to the gateroom. Chatham hadn't moved from the steps but someone-Halling, from his hovering-had got her some tea. Tynan had divested himself of his weaponry and other accoutrements and was leaning against a wall, his hands in his pockets. He opened his eyes as Beckett came into the gateroom, his face unreadable. Beckett wanted to smack him upside his pointy, Glaswegian head. The gate dialed and exploded into existence.

Weir touched her earpiece and said, "Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir, come in, please."

Almost immediately, Stretton responded, "Colonel Sheppard's a little busy right now and asks that you shut down the gate."

Weir took a breath. "I'm sorry, Mr Stretton, but I need some assurance that you're okay. Teyla reported that you were surrounded by Wraith."

"We're fine," he responded. "May I point out, Dr Weir, that we can't get back if you have the gate open your end."

"When will that be, Mr Stretton?" Weir wanted to know.

"When Colonel Sheppard has negotiated a little more with our … um … hosts."

Hosts? Everyone glanced at each other.

"Mr Stretton …" Weir started.

"Elizabeth …" It was Sheppard who answered-in that same tone of voice he always used and as usual, Weir's mouth tightened.

"If we don't hear back from you in," she checked her watch, "20 minutes, I will send a rescue party. Do you understand, Colonel?"

Calling him "Colonel" was how she asserted her authority. It usually didn't work and this time was no exception.

"Bad idea. Really, really bad idea," he said, "We can't get back unless you shut down the gate your end. Send no one through. We'll be back as soon as we can."

There was silence for a moment, broken by Chatham who said something to Tynan. Beckett couldn't pick up anything other than her irritable tone. Whatever it was that she said, Beckett was inclined to agree. Weir listened for a moment and motioned for the gate to be shut down. She looked as frustrated as Beckett felt even though the conga line in his head was dancing elatedly and singing they're alive! they're alive! they're alive! Perhaps now would be a good time to call Heightmeyer. At least he'd be able to smile back-as long as their hosts let them go. The conga line stopped dead and crashed into each other. If he weren't in public, his inner doctor popped up and scolded him, he'd probably start crying. Not a particularly good idea. He sat down on the steps instead.

They waited. Every now and again, another person would come down and join them. Some paced but most sat on the steps and it wasn't long before the gateroom filled up. He was tired and spent most of the time staring at his hands. People-girlfriends, family, friends-always said what nice hands he had. One of the congas stepped out of line and asked him if he should be using those nice hands to experiment on sentient beings. Someone else pointed out that Chatham had apologized to him. Had she? Was he there at the time? His conga line kept nattering away and was giving him a headache. His inner doctor took his temperature and said, you need to see Heightmeyer; so what if her smile never reaches her eyes?

A distant boom made him lift his head. Oh god, he had fallen asleep. People were muttering and starting to stand. There was another boom. Oh god, it was the gate-the gate was dialing. He tried not to hyperventilate. As the room changed to shimmering blue everyone went quiet again.

The marines, surprisingly, came through first. Beckett counted them off. All present and accounted for, sir! shouted one of the conga line. Weir smiled at them, touched each on the shoulder and said welcome home. Ronon walked through. Interesting. He looked fuzzy but the stunner had pretty much worn off. His inner doctor made a note to get the Satedan to the infirmary for a check up.

Sheppard walked through backwards, talking animatedly to Stretton.

"So, you're not going to tell me what you said to the little guy?" he asked. "It's not a secret, is it?"

It was all so normal, cheerful and happy that Beckett wanted to give Sheppard's elf ears a smack. Stretton looked as saturnine as a man who had Wraith splattered all over him could look.

"At the risk of repeating myself, Colonel, I really don't want to repeat myself," Stretton said. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to tell my secrets to someone who's best mate is a Wraith."

Sheppard looked piqued. "He's not my best mate, he's …"

"Your brother?" Stretton said with faint sarcasm.

"Hey, I saved your life back there," Sheppard noted.

"Yes, you did," Stretton acknowledged. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"John?" said Weir, a dangerous pitch to her voice. "Can you please tell me … us … what the hell is going on?"

Both men turned to her, looking startled at the amount of people in the gateroom. Beckett glanced over at Chatham and Tynan. They had their bland faces on, though Chatham's hands were jiggling in her lap and Tynan looked … _hmmm_, Tynan looked uncomfortable. Hmmm, said the conga line, hmmm.

"Er, yes," Sheppard said. "Look, I'm sorry but things were a bit …" He waved his hand around as if looking for the right word.

"Tense?" suggested Stretton.

Sheppard pointed a finger. "Yes, tense. Things were tense."

Weir looked furious and relieved all at once. "Can you explain these tense things?" she asked.

"Well," said Sheppard obviously warming up. "Uh, you remember when Kolya captured me and fed me to the Wraith? And then the Wraith and I escaped. And then the Wraith unfed me. Is that a word?"

"No," said Weir. "It isn't. Go on."

Beckett got it. Sheppard was chattering because he was freaked out. He was completely freaked out. Beckett was the only one in the room who could see behind the manic cheerfulness. Or was he? He checked Stretton over. The policeman was playing along but his eyes were watchful and he looked ready to fling out a life jacket if Sheppard fell overboard. A canny policeman indeed; one to watch. Was Stretton also freaked out? Beckett couldn't tell.

"Well, uh, Sheppard went on. "Um, it was him. On the planet. That's how we got away."

"There were cries of 'Oh brother, where hast thou been?' and lots of hugs and talk of catching up over a few drinks," said Stretton tilting his head to one side to watch Sheppard and to see Weir's reaction. "It was all very touching."

"You made … he made that bit up," protested Sheppard.

"But he let you go," said Weir.

"Despite Cameron kicking him in the head, too," added Sheppard.

First name. Hmmm, said the conga line. Sheppard gave Stretton a brilliant smile. Stretton smiled back but it was fixed, his eyes narrowed. He was wrong, though. Sheppard wouldn't do anything in public. It wasn't just the hero being strong; it was just Sheppard being Sheppard.

"You said that you had to negotiate," said Weir floundering slightly. She knew something was wrong but there was nothing to grab hold of in the face of Sheppard's hyperactivity.

"Not for our release," said Sheppard. To Stretton he said, "You might want to tell her this bit."

Stretton had taken his eyes off Sheppard and was watching Chatham and Tynan. They watched him back. He nodded at them.

"Frankly, I'd rather check on my team and wash this Wraith off me first," he said.

"Me, too," said Sheppard. "Uh, I'll just …"

"Go to the infirmary," said Beckett asserting himself. "Now, please, Colonel."

As Sheppard made his usual noises about being fine, Beckett turned his head away. Stretton had reached Chatham and was sitting beside her, speaking softly. She nodded a few times. He went to stand and she tugged him back down, putting her arms around his neck to hug him. Not a girlfriend, the conga line reminded Beckett. Stretton stood, his smile fading as he met Tynan's gaze.

"I want a word wi' you," he said. His tone was mild but Tynan looked surprisingly daunted.

"Yes, sir," he said. Stretton leaned in and said something in Tynan's ear. The Scotsman swallowed and said, "Sir."

"Carson, really, I'm fine," said Sheppard bringing Beckett back into the conversation he was supposed to be taking part in.

"Nevertheless, Colonel, there are protocols to be gone through, etc, etc," said Beckett briskly. "The sooner you get there, the sooner you'll be gone; you, too, Mr Stretton."

Stretton turned his head away from Tynan. "How is Danny, please, Dr Beckett?" he asked.

"A bit of a concussion," said Beckett. "Millwall supporter."

Stretton narrowed his eyes at Beckett, giving him the same assessing look that he'd given Sheppard. He didn't say anything and after a few seconds, Beckett shifted uneasily and fussed at Ronan to escape the gaze. The crowd started to fade away and as Sheppard promised Weir to give her a full rundown on what had happened, Beckett started herding those needing exams to the infirmary.

"Dr Beckett," said Stretton. His voice was louder than normal and Beckett turned to him in surprise. "Doctor, I said some extremely harsh things about you recently. They were unkind and extremely rude, and it was not my place to do so. My apologies."

Chatham and Tynan looked startled-what, said the conga line, the man's never apologized before? What Beckett really wanted to do was hide somewhere and howl. Instead he flushed and nodded brusquely. Stretton was still watching him carefully. Ready to fling out a lifejacket. Not waving. Drowning. No one else noticed.

He fled to the infirmary and tasked various of his staff to do the exams. He checked on Breen and Cadman. Breen was still asleep, watched over by Barker; Cadman, fortunately, still couldn't talk properly. He patted her on the hand and disappeared into the corner that he'd designated his office. The windows were glass and there was no door. He couldn't hide. He missed Sheppard's exam and everyone else's. He didn't see Stretton at all. He busied himself with paperwork and buried the conga line and his inner doctor down deep. He looked up when he finished everything he could possibly finish to find the infirmary darkened. Venturing out, he checked on Cadman who had finally given up the struggle to talk and had fallen asleep. To his surprise Chatham was sitting at Breen's bedside. She nodded at him but didn't say anything.

Beckett quietly made himself a coffee and settled back into his office. He stared at the picture of Kenmore above his desk but gradually became aware of voices in the infirmary. They were quiet, considerate of the sleeping Breen and Cadman, but with dismay he realized that one was Kate Heightmeyer.

"And how is your friend?" Heightmeyer was asking, that warm smile in her voice.

"Which friend?" Chatham sounded puzzled.

Beckett leaned back to watch.

Heightmeyer paused, looking at Breen in the bed Chatham was sitting next to. She semi-pointed. "In the bed."

"Detective Constable Breen has concussion," said Chatham. "I am assured by the medical staff that he will recover completely."

Even though he knew she was an Honourable, Beckett hadn't heard Chatham sound quite so stuck up before.

"It must be very hard for you," said Heightmeyer sympathetically.

"I am unsure as to your meaning," said Chatham snottily. Beckett wasn't sure if she knew who Heightmeyer was or not.

"I mean, not being used to this sort of thing," Heightmeyer said.

Chatham looked at Breen in the bed. "I have sat beside many an unconscious police officer's bed in hospitals. It happens more often than you might think."

"Ah, but you don't have the Wraith," said Heightmeyer in a "gotcha" one-upmanship triumphant tone.

"How very true," agreed Chatham. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Kate," said Heightmeyer. "Kate Heightmeyer."

"And outside of patronizing people, Kate Heightmeyer," said Chatham. "what else do you do in Atlantis?"

Heightmeyer's smile slipped a little and she said graciously, "I'm not trying to patronize you, Kate. Oh, your name is Kate, too, isn't it!" She laughed that horrible, fake laugh that Beckett couldn't stand. Chatham didn't laugh back. "I talk to people. I help sort out what they're feeling."

"Detective Inspector, thank you," drawled Chatham. "What an interesting job. You know, when I grow up, I want to be a social worker, too."

She sneered tightly at Heightmeyer, whose smile disappeared completely, and Beckett put his hand over his mouth to stop the snorting laughter threatening to come out.

Chatham looked behind Heightmeyer and said, "Evening, boss. I'm going to bed."

Stretton was leaning in the doorway, his arms folded. "Night, puppydog," he said. "See you in the morning."

As Chatham brushed past him, still limping a little, he gazed sardonically at Heightmeyer who made, in Beckett's opinion, a heroic effort to put the smile back on her face.

"Commander Stretton," she said. "I'm …"

"I know who you are, Dr Heightmeyer," he said. He glanced at Beckett's office and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh good," she said. "I'm …"

"We're not your customers, Doctor," said Stretton.

"You don't think it's a good idea to talk about what happened today?" she asked insistently.

"Not to you," he said. "Social workers and police officers don't tend to mix well. Any whiff of counseling is not considered a good thing."

"I'm not a social worker," she said.

"You may as well be," Stretton replied. "You're not a medical doctor."

"You were nearly taken by the Wraith," she protested. "Talking about it can help."

He sighed a little. "Dr Heightmeyer, I'm trying very hard to be polite. Go away."

"But …" she said.

"Piss. Off," he said more harshly. At her continued hesitation he said flatly, "Now works for me."

Heightmeyer left, looking peevish. He'd hear about it later but Beckett hoped she'd complain to Weir rather than to him. He ventured out of his office. Stretton was looking at Breen's chart.

"Thank you," Beckett said.

"She doesn't seem too popular," Stretton said.

"No," Beckett said.

"And she smiles a lot," he went on.

"Yes," Beckett said.

"Her smile doesn't reach her eyes," Stretton said.

"No," Beckett said.

Stretton had that watchful gaze on his face again and Beckett felt the conga line stirring.

"You apologized," he blurted out.

Stretton said nothing.

"Did you mean it? Beckett asked.

"Yes," Stretton said.

Beckett turned blindly away into his office. He stumbled into his chair and sat on the floor shaking badly.

He felt, rather than heard Stretton crouch down beside him.

"Dr Beckett, I hate to sound hypocritical considering the conversation I just had," said Stretton very gently, "but you need to talk to someone."

"Who's social working now?" said Beckett trying to stop his teeth chattering. "I should talk to Kate Heightmeyer, should I?"

"I recognize a near breakdown when I see it, Doctor," Stretton said. "It doesn't have to be Dr Smiley. Pick someone you trust."

"I trust Sheppard," said Beckett shaking his head. "But you saw what happened today. He bears the weight of the expedition on his shoulders."

"And what about you?" Stretton asked, still crouched down.

"Why do you care?" countered Beckett.

"There are enough madmen to contend with, Doctor; there should be less of them to go around," said Stretton. He sounded cryptic but Beckett understood.

"Where's yours?" he asked tentatively.

"Cursing at the cave of my skull," Stretton said almost amused. "Sheppard would probably prefer your madmen to his own."

"What were you supposed to tell Elizabeth?" asked Beckett abruptly.

"What?"

"Sheppard said that you should tell her 'that bit,'" said Beckett. The shakes were slowing. "About why you took so long."

"Ah, that," said Stretton. He eyed Beckett assessingly. "Sheppard recognized the Wraith I kicked in the head."

"You said you weren't any good at football," said Beckett.

"Moss Side riots, 1981," Stretton said. "I really am crap at football but I know how to kick someone in the head."

"How old were you?" Beckett asked faintly.

"Sixteen," Stretton replied. "I'm also good at throwing rocks at police officers." Beckett blinked at this but Stretton kept talking. "Sheppard almost immediately got the Wraith to let us go. I don't know how and frankly, I don't really want to. I don't like being looked at as though I'm a happy meal on legs, as Spike would put it. Negotiating for what was left of the villagers took longer."

"That sounds like him," said Beckett. "Why was it your story?"

"I wanted Gilo to stay behind." At Beckett's confused look, he said, "He's a snout, Dr Beckett, and not just for Halling. He'll sell any information in return for food. Gilo will tell the next person who asks about the people from Atlantis that they talked about their new nuclear physicist who is so much better than their dead Dr McKay."

"That might take ages," protested Beckett. "If the Wraith keep their word."

"They may, they may not. But we need to ascertain whether Sheppard is right and it was this Kolya who took Dr McKay," he said. "I've asked Dr Weir to invite the Genii leader for lunch. If they had something to do with it, they'll check their information source first to see if there's anything they need to know. Then we'll see what happens."

"That's sneaky," Beckett admitted.

"Thank you," said Stretton.

"What new nuclear physicist?" asked Beckett suddenly.

"That would be Tynan," said Stretton.

Oh, said the conga line, oh.

"Stay with me, Dr Beckett," said Stretton clicking his fingers in Beckett's face. "What happened with Tynan?"

"Nothing," said Beckett immediately.

"Are you lying to me?"

"No," denied Beckett.

"Liar," said Stretton. After a moment he went on, "I need a nuclear physicist."

"We have those," pointed out Beckett.

"I need one who can also ask questions in a way that will get us answers," said Stretton. "Tynan's very good at pretending to be someone he's not."

"He's done undercover work?" asked Beckett. The shakes had almost stopped now.

"I suppose you could call it that," said Stretton. At Beckett's puzzled look, he said, "We call it covert policing. You've watched too much American television, Dr Beckett."

A coughing sound came from the infirmary and Beckett stood up quickly, as did Stretton. He overbalanced and Stretton steadied him. The policeman looked searchingly at Beckett and seemed reasonably satisfied with what he saw.

Beckett swallowed. "I need to check on DC Breen," he said.

"You'll talk to Sheppard," said Stretton. It wasn't a question.

"I don't know that I need to," said Beckett quietly. "Thank you, Mr Stretton."

"I'm not a counselor, Dr Beckett," said Stretton. "Talk to Sheppard. Please."

Beckett nodded less reluctantly than he thought he would. "I will," he promised. "Who should he talk to?"

"I think he should talk to Heightmeyer," said Stretton unexpectedly. "Though he's probably as fond of social workers as I am."

Beckett found that funnier than he ought and he was still chuckling as he went into the infirmary. Stretton leaned against the wall and watched as Beckett checked on Breen, awake but drowsy. A thud from the corridor heralded Sheppard's arrival as he all but slid into the room in his hurry.

"You were right again," he said amicably to Stretton. "I'm finding that annoying."

"They called back," said Stretton.

"Yep," said Sheppard.

"Who called?" asked Beckett.

"The Genii," announced Sheppard. "They're coming to lunch."

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_A couple of quotes that I semi-lifted:_

_Where Stretton says about contending with madmen and that his is 'cursing', that's from one of my favorite songs, 'World Party' by The Waterboys from their Fisherman's Blues CD-_

_"I have a madman of my own to contend with_

_Cursing at the cave of my skull."_

_Plus, there's my fave Spike line from the Buffy episode, Becoming Pt 2:_

_"The truth is, I like this world. You've got dog racing, Manchester United, and you've got people ... billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs." Kinda sums up the Wraith to me._

_And no, I'm not fond of Heightmeyer!_

_Next: Beckett talks to Sheppard. Sheppard is worried._


	14. Chapter 14

_In which it's noted that spleen venting is a valid form of self-expression._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 14**

Carson Beckett came to with a start and pulled off the paper that had stuck to his face. He blinked blearily at the clock and then at his reflection in the glass. _Oh, very attractive, Carson, _he thought. He ran his hands through his hair and debated whether or not to change. He looked properly rumpled, as a hard-working doctor should, but he wanted to avoid anymore searching gazes. His heart stopped a moment: what if Stretton had spoken to Sheppard about him? Would he have done that? He considered those icy blue eyes and the unexpected kindness in them―no, he wouldn't have said anything. Beckett would talk to Sheppard but now probably wasn't a good time. When was it ever?

He decided to get some breakfast and headed towards the mess. Tea and toast: it fixed a lot of problems. It was still early, too early for most people to be up at all, but Chatham was sitting nursing a large mug. It said, "Only my dog understands me."

"Do you have a dog?" he asked.

She yawned. "A dead dog. He died last year. So, only my dead dog understands me. Cameron tells me I'm just a sad, sad person."

"You're pretty close," said Beckett, half expecting her to say, "What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't. Chatham yawned again and said "I've known Alix―Cameron's wife―since I was three. They're my best friends. Aren't you close with people?"

Not as many as he thought or that he'd like. "Of course," he said. What if Stretton had told her?

She suddenly chuckled. "I've had a lot of snide accusations that we're having an affair," she said. "I'll even bet that people here thought it." She eyed him and he nodded. "We get that. We're friends. Even if we weren't, he's my boss."

"Is that hard?" Beckett asked, because it was easier talking about them than it was talking about himself.

"Sometimes," she said. "Like in that meeting. There's a line and I crossed it. Of course, we―Alix and me―play it up sometimes. One time, after some whispers, she came in at refs to have lunch with us. We were sitting in the middle of the canteen surrounded by all these plonks and Alix swept in, dressed to the nines, and said in a loud accusatory voice―her best QC court voice―'Katherine Chatham, you're having an affair with my husband!' It was hilarious. Cameron just put his head down on the table."

Beckett gave an appreciative smile. "What did everyone else do?"

"Dead silence, followed by lots of tittering whispers. Bunch of muppets," Chatham said scornfully. "Cameron got called into the Chief Super's office over it."

"He got into trouble?" Beckett asked.

"Apparently the Chief Super had a rant about transferring him until Cameron suggested he talk to Alix. This gave the Chief Super pause having been taken apart by Alix in a court case. She can be a bit daunting," she reflected.

"What about you?" said Beckett.

"Did I get into trouble?"

"Uh, I mean, your other half," said Beckett nosily. "What did he say?"

"No other half. Too busy," she said.

There was an odd note in there that warned him off.

"Can I ask something else?" he wanted to know. She took a sip of tea and nodded. "Weren't you a constable at the same time as Mr Stretton?" She nodded again. "Why aren't you more senior?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's a lot of ranks above you," he said. "Was it that you're a woman? Or that you wanted to stay with him?"

"I took some time off to do my doctorate. After that, I worked as a criminal psychologist for a while," she said. "Then I got bored and rejoined. Had to start at the bottom again. I've passed my board for DCI but admittedly, yes, I'm reluctant to leave him. Lord knows the trouble he'd get into."

"That's right," Beckett remembered. "Breen said you had criminology and psychology. You were a bit harsh on Dr Heightmeyer; both of you being psychologists."

"Was Cameron?" she asked.

"He told her to piss off," said Beckett. "You called her a social worker. I think she was more offended by that."

"Dr Beckett, we spoke for five minutes, her asking questions all the time, and not once did she say she was a psychologist. That's unethical," said Chatham. "I bet the American Psychologists Association code of ethics is pretty much the same as the British one. She should have said upfront that she was a psychologist and she didn't. If anything I was being rather more unkind to social workers that I ought to have been."

Beckett remembered Teyla's indignant complaint about Heightmeyer's approach to her just before the Wraith besieged Atlantis―Dr Beckett, shouldn't she have said that Major Sheppard asked her to speak to me? I felt very uncomfortable about her coming to me where other people could hear.

"She was trying to help," he replied a little feebly.

"I don't do touchy-feely, Dr Beckett, and you'd be hardpressed to find a copper who did," said Chatham. "I'm sure she was trying to help but look at the situation you're in. Do you think that someone, say like Colonel Sheppard, will go for doing something or would he go for talking about his problems? From what I've observed, most of your staff probably prefer to be out kicking heads in, even the scientists. You're like that." Beckett looked startled. "Oh, I saw your 'I'm a doctor' protest but you went and you were brilliant. Your Heightmeyer, I bet she's more of an Olympic torch. I'm sure she's good at her job and that people appreciate her assistance but with the pressure here and the potential for mental trauma I'm surprised you don't at least have a psychiatrist on your staff and a full compliment of mental health professionals instead of one psychologist who doesn't introduce herself as one. Me, if I wanted to talk about how hard things were for me I'd talk to my boss who is generally the person in the position of doing something about it." She checked her watch. "Speaking of whom, I'm due to meet Cameron in a minute to discuss the obbo. I'll see you later."

Beckett felt a little stunned. You were brilliant, she said, pointed out the conga line popping back up. Brilliant. You. Eventually he ventured up to the control room. Weir saw him and waved him into her office. Stretton was leaning against one wall, Sheppard against the other.

"Carson, good," said Weir. "I wanted you here as the Chief Surgeon."

Ah, said the conga line, Heightmeyer complained.

"I'm afraid Dr Heightmeyer is a little upset, Mr Stretton," said Weir. She was wearing her gracious voice.

He gave the perfect imitation of a John Sheppard unrepentant shrug.

Weir's lips tightened. "I'm afraid I cannot have you upsetting my staff, Mr Stretton."

"Dr Weir, I said I would step on toes," he reminded her.

"In the investigation," she said. "Dr Heightmeyer was doing her job."

"Uh, Elizabeth," said Beckett. "To be fair, Kate just seemed to be chatting. I was in the other room. She didn't say she was a psychologist. If the officers don't wish to speak to her in a professional capacity then that should be it. I'll have a word to her."

Stretton immediately turned to Weir. "I have an obbo to prepare, Dr Weir. Excuse me." He left and Beckett was amused to see Sheppard looked slightly jealous at his quick escape. _That's because you just recognized yourself there, laddie, and wish you could do the same thing when you're in trouble, _he said to Sheppard silently.

Weir pursed her lips and shut her office door. She looked annoyed and frustrated. "He's so … superior."

"I like him," said Beckett. "He's upfront and he's fair."

"I'm surprised to hear that from you, Carson," said Weir. "After what he said, even if he did apologize."

Beckett paused and the conga line gave him a nudge towards honesty. "Elizabeth, the reason Mr Stretton was rude to Kate Heightmeyer was because I was in the next room falling apart." There he said it. "I didn't want her to see it and he realized that. He got rid of her by telling her to piss off."

Weir looked startled and Sheppard looked at his feet. "It's been pretty tough on you lately, Carson," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Like you said to Major Lorne, Colonel, it's not your fault," said Beckett tightly.

"Carson, why don't we talk later," offered Weir. "You know you can do that."

Weir was at the top of his list of people to avoid talking over problems with so he smiled, nodded, and said, "I know. Thank you, Elizabeth." He changed the subject so she wouldn't pursue it. Sheppard looked worried but he didn't say anything. "I was going to find out what their plans are for the Genii. Mr Stretton said that DS Tynan"―the conga line booed―"would be their nuclear physicist."

"Yes," she frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm sure one of our real nuclear physicists could actually do it."

"Mr Stretton said that DS Tynan was very good at pretending to be other people," said Beckett and his brain paused for a moment and started ticking over.

Sheppard gazed out of the window down into the gateroom. "That might explain a few things," he said.

"He's worked as an undercover police officer," Beckett explained. "DI Chatham mentioned some section of The Met in one of our meetings. I think they do covert policing."

"Zelenka's going to go over everything with him," said Sheppard. "I'll go see what they're doing." He didn't look at Beckett but said, "Coming Carson?"

Sheppard nodded at Weir and left. Beckett followed him, not without some trepidation, but Sheppard didn't say anything until they were well away from the control room. He pulled Beckett into an empty lab. The door shut and Beckett took a moment to admire Sheppard's mental control over the Ancient systems.

"Define falling apart," he said. He looked worried again.

Beckett said neutrally, "Mr Stretton described it as a near breakdown."

"How would you describe it?" Sheppard asked.

"I have a conga line in my head," said Beckett. Sheppard looked momentarily confused and then more worried. "Don't you have something like that, Colonel?"

Sheppard became very still and then reluctantly pointed a finger to the back of his head―the cave of my skull, as Stretton had put it. "Just here. Sometimes."

"You internalize everything," said Beckett.

"This isn't about me," countered Sheppard. "Have you talked to Heightmeyer?"

"No," said Beckett. "Have you?"

"Sometimes," said Sheppard. "When I need to."

_Liar_, thought Beckett_. If you talk to Heightmeyer, son, you're only paying lip service._

"I don't like … touchy-feely," he said. "I'd rather be doing something."

"Yeah," Sheppard sighed. He bit his lip and folded his arms. "When did this start?"

_About five minutes after I arrived in Atlantis_, Beckett wanted to say. Instead he said, "When Rodney disappeared. It's … it's just one thing after another at the moment. Them arriving"―Sheppard got the reference to the police officers―"didn't help. At first. It's better now. They're better now but they're shining a spotlight on …" Don't go there, warned the conga line. "I don't … I don't like being dragged about the galaxy, Colonel. I'm a doctor."

"What about Michael?" asked Sheppard softly. "The retrovirus was your idea, Carson."

Damn the man for slicing right to the heart. He stared at Sheppard and felt himself shaking. He forced himself to stop. "I know," he said simply.

"Why did you do it?" asked Sheppard. He held up a hand as though Beckett would protest. "I agreed to it remember. I'm not accusing or condemning."

"I know that, Colonel," said Beckett. "Maybe I'm just a mad scientist."

Sheppard let out a breath. "Carson …"

Beckett looked away. "I can't help you, Colonel. I can explain that I have a duty to this expedition; that I have a care for my patients; that I'm concerned about Earth; that I'm a geneticist; that I'm scared; all of those things. But when it comes down to it, I thought it would help people not die. Despite the fact that I experimented on sentient beings, I still do. And at heart I find it frightening that I'd probably do the same thing over again."

"You're a dichotomy, Carson. You may be a geneticist but you're a country doctor at heart," said Sheppard. "Do you think you can resolve that?"

Not a touchy-feely type, our Sheppard, no hand holding just direct and to the point, said the conga line. Beckett responded in kind. "No," he said. "And I've wondered if I shouldn't give it up and go home."

"I wouldn't like that, Carson," said Sheppard. "You're needed here. Not just for your medical skills. People like talking to you. They feel more comfortable talking to you than they do to Heightmeyer. I know that puts a hell of a lot more pressure on you."

"I don't mind that," said Beckett quickly. "I like helping people."

"Because it gets your mind off you," said Sheppard.

Damn the man twice and thrice over. "Yes, sometimes," admitted Beckett. "I suspect that works for you as well, Colonel."

Sheppard looked uncomfortable but the nodding shake of his head agreed. "Who does the Chief Surgeon confide in?" he asked. "I get that you'd prefer not to talk to Elizabeth."

"Do you?" inquired Beckett.

"No," said Sheppard in a not-open-to-discussion voice. "I'd rather just do something, too. I'm not very good at talking over problems, Carson, either my own or other people's."

"DI Chatham said―we were talking about mental health from what happened with Kate Heightmeyer―that she'd got the impression that most of the Atlantis staff would prefer to be out kicking heads in," explained Beckett. Sheppard looked amused at the mental picture. "She said she'd rather talk to someone in the position of doing something. What happens when nothing can be done? Realistically, what can we do about the Wraith?"

"We do what we can, Carson," said Sheppard. "Sometimes it's not enough. We're lucky a lot of the time and sometimes our luck runs out. For you"―Beckett noticed the qualification; Sheppard wasn't talking about himself―"I don't think it helps to bottle things up. Do you want to go home?"

"No," denied Beckett. "No one can resolve my dichotomy but me, Colonel. You know that."

"I know, Carson," said Sheppard. "But spleen venting can help, I think."

"Think I could throw a tanty every now and again, Colonel?" asked Beckett drily. "Might that not cause a few questions to be asked?"

The radio clicked and Teyla's voice came through. "Colonel Sheppard, Mr Stretton wants to know if you'll be joining them. I am going to the mainland this morning but will be back in time for the Genii lunch."

Sheppard looked annoyed at being interrupted. Beckett said, "We could go kick some heads in, Colonel. Vent our spleens."

"Do something?" Sheppard asked wryly.

"It's better than falling apart," said Beckett. "I'll let you know if that's going to happen, Colonel. You're better at other people's problems than you think." Sheppard looked awkward and reluctant to let Beckett go. "Colonel, do you ever think that if you do talk then things will get worse?"

Sheppard looked like he knew that one intimately and the door slid open. "After you, Dr Beckett," he said.

They met Zelenka outside the briefing room. He looked unsettled.

"What's up, Radek?" Sheppard asked.

"I have been discussing Genii nuclear bombs with these policisté," Zelenka said. "This Tynan knows too much. He said he has read books. He has done physics in his schooling."

"Maybe he has," said Sheppard. "He's weird but they all are. Maybe he's a nuclear physicist acting undercover as a policeman."

"Do not joke, Colonel," reproved Zelenka. "This will get back Rodney."

"I hope so, Radek," sighed Sheppard.

"When you're ready, Colonel," said Stretton.

Sheppard looked like he was wondering if Stretton overheard the "weird" comment. He gave an embarrassed smile and said, "Er, Cameron."

Stretton's eyes glinted but all he said was, "Thank you for your assistance, Dr Zelenka."

Zelenka looked nervous and scuttled away. Stretton inclined his head at the briefing room and Sheppard and Beckett followed him in.

"Most of this will have to be on the fly, Colonel. We have to confirm that the Genii have Dr McKay and they'll be guarded against that―if they have him at all. If this Kolya has him outside of Genii control, they may be more relaxed about letting us know. But, they may not know anything at all and neither party may have him."

"But you have forensic evidence," said Beckett.

"A mineral that may occur on planets other than the Genii," said Breen. His head was bandaged and he looked pale.

Beckett scolded immediately, "I didn't release you from the infirmary, Daniel. You should still be in bed."

"I'll go back after this, Doc," said Breen. His tone indicated a prime wheedler if Beckett had ever heard one.

"I'll escort you back myself with marines, if you don't," threatened Beckett. "Millwall supporter or not."

"So, what's the plan?" said Sheppard.

"Lunch. You're not invited," said Stretton. Sheppard glared. "They don't like you, Colonel, and your presence would be disruptive."

"I'm a nice person," said Sheppard mock innocently.

"Who singlehandingly offed large numbers of their soldiers," said Stretton. "Admirable, but not useful in this situation."

"Who will be at lunch then?" asked Beckett.

"Dr Weir and the Genii and Ben will stumble in to ask a question or something similar. Dr Weir will introduce him as a scientist new to Atlantis," said Chatham. "If they're keen, they'll ask what sort of scientist and if they bite on the response, Dr Weir will ask him to sit down for a chat."

"Elizabeth is okay with this?" queried Sheppard.

"I haven't put it to her yet," said Stretton serenely. "As a diplomat, she should be used to lying."

That was blunt, thought Beckett. Burn! said the conga line. Sheppard winced but didn't disagree.

"A technical issue, Colonel," said Tynan. "Your radios."

"What about them?" asked Sheppard.

"If it is the Genii, they have 39 of your radios and the frequencies that you use," said Stretton. "What else do you have?"

"We'd know if they were using our radios," said Sheppard.

Chatham pulled her hair down. It fell around her shoulders and Beckett took a moment to admire it. She pulled it forward a little so it hid her ears.

"See any radio, Colonel?" she wanted to know.

"No, but you're not wearing one," said Sheppard.

She pulled her hair back to show the earpiece. "They don't have to wear the mike to listen in on everything," she said.

"During the obbo, we'll be using our radios as a precaution, Colonel," said Stretton.

"Okay but can I ask a question?" Stretton nodded and Sheppard said, "What's an 'obbo'?"

"Sorry, slang. Operation," said Chatham.

"That'll be all for now," said Stretton. "Ben, bone up on your physics. Colonel, if you'd stay a moment? Dr Beckett, please."

Sheppard and Beckett sat down. Chatham didn't move but Barker, Tynan and Breen left, the latter promising to go back to the infirmary.

"Colonel, we've had this sort of conversation before―_these_ conversations. Even if we get the evidence that the Genii or Kolya, as a renegade, are involved, we may need to let them go," said Stretton. "And I don't want any interference if that decision has to be made."

"No," said Sheppard flatly.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Colonel. I'm going to let you go away and think about it," said Stretton expressionlessly.

"I don't need to think about it," said Sheppard coldly. "If they have Rodney, if they murdered 38 of our people, they're not going to get away with it. You said that decision wasn't up to you. Well, it's up to me. You catch 'em, I'll deal with 'em."

"Go away and think about it," repeated Stretton. He looked at his watch. "They'll be here in an hour. I have work to do. I do not want you bollocksing this up. Stay away from the gateroom when they arrive."

He and Chatham left. Sheppard sat at the table in silence. Beckett wondered why he'd been asked to stay. Sheppard was still except for the fingers of his right hand which went up and down in a wave as though he was playing scales. Did he play the piano? He was good at maths, better than good. People who were good at maths were often also good at music. McKay had admitted to Beckett once that it was entirely likely that Sheppard, if he applied that lazy brain of his―McKay's words not Beckett's―would be better than most of the science team, including himself, at nearly everything. It had been a rare moment of humbleness for Rodney McKay's ego and a measure of the esteem and care in which he held Sheppard. Beckett was friends with them both but he envied _their_ friendship.

Sheppard's hand had stopped playing scales and was clenched. He slammed his fist down on the table and said, "Shit!" He got up and paced a little. "I don't think he's superior, I think he's ffffff … damned annoying."

"Colonel?" said Beckett. He realized that Stretton had asked him to stay not because of his conversation but because of this one. Sheppard needed to vent just as much as Beckett.

"He's right. Shit." Sheppard stomped to the door. "Let's see what happens, Carson."

As the gateroom alarmed blared, Beckett waited out of sight with Sheppard. Stretton and Breen stood near them, arms folded, their eyes fixed on the gate. Weir paced up and down, her fingers twitching nervously. Chatham stood beside her in a marine's uniform looking like she had been born carrying a P90. She glanced back at Stretton. He nodded.

The Genii contingent came through the gate. There were four of them. Ladon, he recognized; the others were his aides, Beckett assumed. Or protection, perhaps. He looked them over and felt the conga line start to hyperventilate.

"Ladon," said Weir. "Welcome back to Atlantis."

"Thank you for inviting me, Dr Weir," the Genii leader replied warmly.

They chatted in nothings for a few minutes. One of Ladon's aides looked around as though searching for something or someone. Sheppard stirred beside Beckett, his feet shifting uneasily.

"Who is that?" said Stretton in a low voice looking at the man glancing around.

Sheppard shook his head. "No one I know."

"Dr Weir," the man greeted her. "It is good to see you again."

"Oh, he's a bad man, boss," whispered Breen.

"Yes, I do believe he is," said Stretton his eyes narrow and assessing. "I think you're wrong about Kolya, Colonel. I don't think he had anything to do with this."

"I don't know this guy but he does look kinda familiar," said Sheppard, the same narrowed gaze fixed on the man next to Ladon.

"Prenum," said Weir, an edge to her voice. "I can't say the same exactly, can I? Having not actually seen you before."

"Prenum's the guy who gave Elizabeth the nukes," said Sheppard, anger dawning in his face. "She thought he was in charge of their nuclear program."

"I think we've just met our chief scroat," said Stretton. "But it's more than that, Colonel. Look at him. I don't want to belabor a previous historical analogy because it will distress Dr Beckett but I think there's a reason he looks familiar …"

"That's because …" said Beckett, getting the same feeling as Stretton, as well as who the historical figure was.

Sheppard watched the fussy-looking little man who looked like he should be wearing glasses but wasn't. He leaned forward and interrupted Beckett.

"He looks like the chicken farmer."

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Chicken farmer: Look at a picture of Prenum. He's a prissy little bloke in a uniform and he's the dead spit of Heinrich Himmler. Google Himmler's images and note the similarities._

_Plonks: I've heard this in various forms. One was slang for female police officers but I've also come across it as an acronym for Person of Little Knowledge._

_Muppets: Most Useless Police Person Ever Trained._

_Chief Super: Chief Superintendent, a senior officer rank, usually in charge of a police station._

_Board: an interview panel._

_Olympic torch: cos they never goes out_

_Tanty: a temper tantrum_

_Policisté: the police. I don't know if I got the right noun in Czech there and if anyone reading speaks/reads Czech I'd be grateful for a correction if it's wrong._

_Obbo: explained above. A police operation._

_Scroat: a criminal._

_Next: We get to know the lead scroat._


	15. Chapter 15

_In which it's noted that a BBC Shop would come in handy in the Pegasus galaxy ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 15**

He stood behind the mirror watching as Elizabeth Weir captivated the Genii. There were only two guards in the room and neither from what he could see was armed. One was Major Lorne, the other was Detective Inspector Chatham, both expressionless automatons-the perfect soldiers.

From the moment the Genii delegation had arrived, Lorne and Chatham had followed them as Elizabeth Weir, at her most diplomatically charming, had given them a tour of various parts of Atlantis. As Sheppard had put it, areas that were interesting enough to warrant a visit but not important enough to cause any damage. The route was deliberately obtuse. Ladon had only ever been in the control and gateroom areas and in the infirmary; he wouldn't know if they were leading him in circles or not.

Only Prenum wasn't charmed, though he pretended to be and, Breen said, he obviously knew they were giving the Genii a song and dance routine. They had set up cameras along the route to watch and to tape everything for future reference. Lorne and Chatham, as well as Weir, had recording devices and microphones. Sheppard had said that the police were suspiciously well-prepared for people who had just come to do a few interviews. Stretton had only said that perhaps Sheppard ought to discuss their well-preparedness with DS Tynan who had "brought various bits and pieces with him, just in case." Tynan had given Sheppard a half-smile but Beckett and his conga line were interested to note the prickly look the Sergeant had given his boss. Something going on there, the conga line observed.

Sheppard paced-action man forced to do nothing. Beckett thought he and Stretton were a lot alike but the policeman was far more controlled. He stood still, his arms folded, watching Prenum coldly. Eventually Sheppard settled down, his own arms folded, tightly controlled, a wound spring. There was little chat in the observation room to start with. Tynan didn't watch Prenum through the glass; he watched the monitor, occasionally making adjustments to the settings. Breen sat behind, dividing his attention between the monitor and the mirror, biting his thumb. He looked a lot better but Barker, his other half as the conga line had cheekily dubbed him, was still hovering.

"When are you going on stage?" Sheppard burst out addressing Tynan.

"When I say he goes, Colonel," said Stretton. "And not before. I would have thought that you'd be used to the 'hurry up and wait' routine."

"I've never been real good at that," Sheppard replied, faintly snappy.

"Welcome to police work, sir," said Breen. "Remember that drugs obbo, boss?" Stretton nodded and Breen went on, "Sitting in a dingy council flat with no heating for four months. No lights, nothing. Now, _that_ was boring."

"Twenty years, though," Tynan said. "Good outcome."

"That was the sentence?" asked Beckett. "What did they do?"

"Selling Class A drugs to wee kiddies to fund their activities," said Tynan correcting himself at the last minute.

"What activities?" Beckett inquired.

"You don't need to know," said Stretton. "Be patient, Colonel."

"I'm not real good at that either," said Sheppard, but he settled back against the wall and fell silent.

It was indeed boring, thought Beckett, and it had only been a couple of hours. Finally, dinner trolleys were wheeled into the room they'd set up and decorated for lunch. Ronon had been roped into help but after seeing the mess he and Tynan had made shifting things around, Cadman, sticking her head in the room and finally able to speak properly, had said that they were utterly useless at interior decorating and would they let someone else do it. Teyla, back for lunch, had taken charge, bringing in some of her Athosian knick knacks and borrowing most of Weir's office. She'd even found some of the 10 000-year-old dead Ancient plants and had painted them shades of red and black. The colors of war in some cultures, Ronon had observed. Teyla had given an enigmatic smile but hadn't replied.

"Please," said Weir breaking Beckett's concentration. He focused back onto the mirrored room. "Why don't we continue our trade agreement discussions over lunch?"

Prenum said, "Is this part of your culture, Dr Weir?" He gave a prissy little sniff.

"Why, yes," said Weir. "It signifies what we call 'a breaking of bread,' showing that we are friends enough to sit together and eat."

"Must be an American thing," mocked Barker behind the mirror.

"Not really," said Sheppard equally mocking. "I do believe that Elizabeth just made that up."

"She's good at thinking on her feet," said Stretton. "Good liars always are."

Sheppard looked sharply at Stretton's backhanded compliment but as usual when he didn't like what was said but didn't disagree with it, he said nothing.

"And what if," Prenum was saying, "you have poisoned our food?"

"Prenum," Ladon hissed looking embarrassed.

"That's a lad who knows he'll get more out of maintaining good relations with Atlantis than you will maintaining relations with them," observed Breen of Ladon.

"We get tava beans," said Sheppard somewhat glumly.

"Nice, are they?" asked Breen.

"I prefer a three bean mix with my Tex Mex," said Sheppard.

Weir merely smiled again and said, "Many years ago on our home planet, when enemies met for parley, they would eat from common dishes. The host would eat first to show the food was not poisoned. Would you like me to do that, Prenum? We wouldn't bother inviting the Genii here just to poison you." Her voice held a challenge.

"Isn't she supposed to be charming them?" said Beckett a little worried.

"No, this is good," said Stretton.

Sheppard agreed. "It lets them know that she won't take any shit from them."

Ladon was hastily saying that eating first wasn't necessary. He was glaring at Prenum who looked disinterestedly at the Genii leader. A psychopath, offered Tynan. He'd murder millions and not think twice about it. No, Stretton said, he didn't think that Prenum was at all crazy. Amoral, perhaps, and yes, he'd murder millions and not think once let alone twice but all the most interesting villains thought they were doing the right thing. There were only problems when people got in the way. You're a student of human nature, Mr Stretton, proffered Beckett. One recognizes one's own, he replied. Beckett froze and said weakly that Stretton wasn't like that at all. Everyone's guilty of something, Stretton replied. Sheppard looked at his feet and gnawed his lip.

The Genii sat at the table and Sheppard pointed out the seating arrangements. They'd deliberately put in a round table so no one looked as though they were in charge. Ladon sat with Weir on his right. One of Ladon's aides sat on his left. Prenum waited until they were all seated until taking his own. Three seats were empty and Prenum sat in the middle of these as though distancing himself from Ladon. Beckett could see Chatham's eyes narrow at this. She glanced at the mirror without moving her head and Stretton nodded. He tapped his radio; he was finally wearing an earpiece. Police issue.

"Teyla, Ronon, you're on," he said. A tap came through as acknowledgement.

The door swished open and Teyla strolled in followed by Ronon.

"I'm sorry we're late, Elizabeth," she said pleasantly. "We had business to attend to." Weir smiled and indicated the seats either side of Prenum. Teyla acknowledged the Genii leader with a simple, "Ladon." Ronon nodded at him but didn't say anything.

"You are Teyla Emmagen," said Prenum coldly. "You left Tyrus to die at the hands of the Wraith."

Teyla's pleasant smile became a little fixed and Ronon broke in, "From what I hear, maybe if Tyrus hadn't yelled and then shot someone, he wouldn't have got taken. I don't know how many times I've walked around Wraith hive ships and wasn't caught because I didn't make a noise. Tyrus was stupid."

Teyla looked through Prenum to Ronon. "Ronon."

Beckett noted that Ronon had also perfected the Sheppard shrug.

Ladon cut in tensely as Prenum's nose wrinkled. "Let's keep talking, shall we? Dr Weir, we are interested in your technology, obviously."

"No," said Weir flatly. "I'm sorry Ladon but we've already seen our technology abused at the hands of your people

Ladon cut her off. "A renegade faction, Dr Weir."

Behind the glass, Sheppard let out a crack of mocking laughter. "Gotta love revisionist history."

"I seem to recall you were on that mission to take over Atlantis, Ladon," said Teyla pointedly. "You only got away because you fled through the gate."

"And since taking over"-murdering, broke in Sheppard-"from Cowan, I have put in place policies that will help peoples who are not our own. We have taken in many refugees and have gone to worlds culled by the Wraith to find survivors. We must stand together as you have said," insisted Ladon. "I firmly believe that the Genii and the people of Atlantis can be strong allies."

"As do I, Ladon," said Weir smiling. "I am positive the Wraith can be defeated if we work together towards a common goal but our technology is not on the table." Ladon looked confused and she amended, "It is not part of these negotiations."

"Did we not give you our weapons when you begged for them, Dr Weir?" cut in Prenum smoothly.

"There's our cue," said Stretton.

Tynan got up, handed his headphones to Breen and put on a scientist's lab coat. Stretton checked Tynan's radio and said, "Wait until Lorne comes to get you."

"Yes sir," said Tynan.

As he was going out the door, Beckett said, "Good luck, Sergeant."

Tynan looked back in surprise. He blinked and said, "Thank you, Dr Beckett."

Weir was discussing the use of the Genii bombs, arguing that their scientists had to spend a lot of time completing the work.

Prenum was smooth. "I'm sure your scientists made the necessary adjustments without trouble, Doctor."

Stretton clicked his radio, "Dr Weir, bring McKay into the conversation."

She gave no sign that he'd spoken to her. "Because we have talented scientists, Prenum." She paused, looked sorrowful and sighed. "Had talented scientists."

"Nice," said Sheppard appreciatively. He pointed out the check in Prenum's reaching for a glass and the policeman nodded.

"We had heard that you had lost some people," said Ladon sympathetically.

"Patsy or complicit?" queried Barker.

"Patsy," said Sheppard and Stretton together. Sheppard went on, "I'd say Prenum's not caring much that Ladon's supposed to be the Genii leader."

"Yes," said Weir looking sorrowful. "A scientific expedition was taken by the Wraith, including someone you know, Ladon - Dr McKay."

Sheppard leaned into the glass to look at Ladon's face. The Genii leader looked shocked. "Dr McKay was taken by the Wraith?"

Sheppard nodded and said contemptuously, "Patsy."

"Dr Weir," said Stretton. "Don't say much else about Dr McKay. It's a painful subject. You were close friends, etc."

"Yes," Weir looked down upset. Teyla wiped her hand across her face as though brushing away tears. Ronon leaned across the table in front of Prenum and patted her hand. Prenum drew back as if stung.

"Doesn't like people in his personal space, does he?" observed Breen.

"Ronon, that's good. You and Teyla talk across him a bit more," ordered Stretton. "It'll rattle him." He flicked off his radio and said to Sheppard, "You have an acting troupe there, Colonel."

"I'm sorry, Ladon," Weir continued bravely. "Rodney and I were friends and it's a painful subject. Our new people are all very good, though."

"Perhaps," said Prenum recovering his equilibrium, "with your new scientists here, we could trade something else, Dr Weir."

"You're not going to suggest we trade our people, are you?" asked Ronon smiling, inches away from Prenum's face. The Genii hastily pulled away only to bump into Teyla, leaning in from the other side.

"Information," suggested Ladon, "If I understand what Prenum means."

"I thought the Genii were the local information merchants," said Teyla, slightly derisive.

"You have information that we don't have," said Prenum frigidly. "Scientific information that could help us improve life for our people."

"For your bombs?" asked Weir deliberately.

"I admit that would be helpful, Dr Weir," said Prenum. Slick, said Sheppard. "We have reached a stage in our weapons development where our scientists could use outside expertise."

"Because Dr McKay isn't as helpful as he could be after we rescued him from the mean Wraith," Barker finished scornfully.

Stretton said to Sheppard, "Good will or trade?"

"Trade," said Sheppard.

Weir appeared to be thinking about it and Stretton said into his radio, "Make a gesture towards a trade, Dr Weir, and ask Tynan to come in. It's a good cue. McKay isn't providing as much information as they need or Prenum wants to know if he's lying to them."

She waited, as if thinking, and Prenum watched her. Ladon looked unsettled at the silence.

"Very well," she said decisively. She said to Lorne, "Major, would you ask Ben Tynan to come and meet the Genii." As Lorne left the room, she said, "Dr Tynan is new to Atlantis. He may be able to give you a little information but I want a trade. Information for information."

"What do you want to know?" asked Ladon. The Genii leader was floundering a little.

"The whereabouts of the hive ship that took Dr McKay and the rest of our scientists," she responded. Ladon started to speak. "Ladon, we know there are people in this galaxy who trade information. The Genii are one of those peoples. We also know that some people trade information with the Wraith. We want to know if our people are alive and if so, where they are."

"I can't promise that, Dr Weir," said Ladon. "No one may know."

"But you can send your agents out to a lot of planets that we aren't aware of to try to find someone who does know," said Weir. "If it's possible to get our people off the hive ship, we'll take the chance."

"And what weapons would you use?" Prenum asked, shifting uncomfortably as Ronon leaned behind him to pass Teyla the salt.

"Classified," said Ronon brightly. Prenum's mouth tightened and Ronan added, "All we need from the Genii is information."

As Ladon started to say, "We'll see what we can do the door opened and Lorne came in followed by Tynan. The Detective Sergeant looked different somehow, decided Beckett. Not himself anyway. He wore glasses, had run his hands through his hair, and looked as though he hadn't slept for weeks.

"Ah, Ben," said Weir. "Thank you for coming."

Tynan looked at Lorne, again the automaton, who had positioned himself next to Chatham. He sniffed and said in a snotty, weedy voice, "I had a choice? I am _busy_, Dr Weir."

Teyla was taking a sip of water and choked. Ronan leaned around Prenum and gave her a pat on the back. Prenum squirmed away even more.

Weir's smile became a little stiff. "I am sorry to pull you away from your work, Ben, but we are currently in trade negotiations with our Genii friends."

"Well, I don't see how I can help with that," said Tynan.

"The Genii have a nuclear program and are looking for some advice," said Weir. "We have agreed that they will try to find out where the hive ship is that took our people in exchange for your assistance."

Tynan looked them up and down impatiently. "Advice on what?"

Prenum repeated, "We have reached a stage in our development where we could use some outside expertise."

"Which tells me precisely nothing," said Tynan. "Power or weapons?"

Prenum paused. "Weapons," he said.

"What sort?" asked Tynan with a hint of impatience.

"Atomic said Prenum a little puzzled.

"There _are_ different types you know," sighed Tynan. "What exactly is the problem?"

"Our fusion process," said Prenum.

"Fusion? You're using fusion? Oh, good Tynan sighed. "Not fission? Are you sure you're not just confused?"

"Fusion was recommended by our scientists as a safer option," said Prenum fussily.

Sheppard made choking sounds as Tynan dismissively said, "Your scientists are clearly idiots."

He then became appallingly technical, as Sheppard put it. Prenum interrupted every now and again but mainly, Tynan just talked. After a while Beckett zoned out. He caught the occasional word or phrase-barrier-beam-target fusion-velocity distribution-inertial confinement-as Tynan waved his hands around and walked up and down, essentially giving the impression of someone who wanted to be somewhere else and was rushing through his explanations.

"Does anyone have any idea what he's on about?" asked Beckett eventually in a plaintive voice.

"Yeah," Sheppard drawled an arrested look on his face. "He's good," he said to Stretton.

"Yes," said Stretton pokerfaced. "He's a quick study."

"What'd he do? Memorize the whole of Wikipedia on the subject?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"He did say he found it useful," said Breen jokingly.

From the look on Weir's face she, too, was impressed-and aghast at the same time.

"He isn't giving too much away, is he?" asked Beckett worriedly.

"Don't think so," said Sheppard. "He's baffling them with bullshit. It's _good_ bullshit, though-he knows what he's talking about and he's talking in Earth terms and using a whole lot of jargon. He's bringing in all sorts of stuff from fission bombs to fusion bombs to whatever, and from the looks of it they simply don't know if he's telling them anything useful. I really don't think they're going to go back and say to McKay, 'You need to do this.' Mind you, if they do, I think McKay could get into trouble."

And how do you know so much, Colonel? asked the conga line. You're a pilot …

Tynan had pulled up a chair and sat down at the table and was now drawing on the tablecloth. He finished with, "So, if supercriticality isn't your problem, and the injection isn't the problem, what exactly is it that you want from me?"

"We are having trouble ensuring the stability of the core," said Prenum.

"That should be easy," huffed Tynan.

Prenum cut him off and said, "Yes, I am well aware of that but we think something in our process is preventing it."

"Be precise," Tynan snapped. "What is it preventing in regards to the core?"

"It is preventing us reversing the polarity of the neutron flow," said Prenum.

Behind the mirror, there was instant movement from the police officers. Breen said, "Gotcha, you prick" and punched both arms in the air. Stretton gave a sharp nod and hissed, "Yes! Barker nodded slowly. In the room, Lorne shifted abruptly. Sheppard, however, looked puzzled. Tynan tapped the table with his pencil, biding his time waiting for instructions.

Beckett leaned into the mirror and breathed, "Oh, good lad, Rodney, good lad."

"We need to let them go," said Stretton.

"You might want to explain why first," said Sheppard frowning heavily.

"Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow is a line from _Doctor Who_, Colonel," said Stretton.

Sheppard's face cleared and nodded. "Daleks, cybermen, sofas, hiding."

"That's the one," said Stretton. "Dr McKay just sent us a message and we need to let him know we got it." He made sure Sheppard nodded again then said, "Dr Weir, we're letting them go." She looked at the mirror obviously not understanding but Stretton went on, "Ben, I think there's an obvious response to that line. Take your time."

"Yes, well," said Tynan. "That's a little more difficult and requires specialist equipment in short supply in this galaxy. I certainly didn't bring one"-why not? you brought everything else, said Sheppard irrepressibly-"and I doubt, since we rarely use fusion weaponry if anyone else did either."

"Is this equipment something that can be built?" asked Prenum with a deeply interested look on his face.

"By you?" hooted Tynan. "Oh, I shouldn't think so."

"Could you build it?" Prenum said leaning forward urgently.

"What's it worth?" interjected Weir immediately. "Building something that isn't part of our normal equipment takes time and energy that could perhaps be better spent on our own work. Just attempting to get some information that may or may not pan out isn't worth it. What else can you offer?"

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in more tava beans," said Ladon jokingly.

Weir laughed, smiled and said, "No."

"What else do you want?" said Prenum.

"A tour," said Stretton immediately.

Tynan said, "If you don't mind, Dr Weir?"

She frowned but nodded.

Tynan went on, "I know what it would be worth to me. I want a tour of your facilities for me and my staff."

"And a military escort," said Weir firmly.

"No," said Prenum. "We do not show our laboratories to outsiders."

"You were keen to show Dr McKay," said Weir.

Prenum looked discomforted. "I understand that was Cowan's choice. I am in charge of the laboratories now and I would prefer no outsiders to come in."

"Look," said Tynan impatiently. "If you want my help, it would be better if I actually saw what you were doing."

Prenum considered it. "I would have to think about it," he said.

"As long as he doesn't consider Rodney no longer necessary," said Beckett worriedly.

"No," said Sheppard then he amended, "At least not until he actually does prove no longer necessary."

"Which would happen anyway," said Stretton. "This is accelerating the pace, though."

The Genii delegation and Atlantis team finished up their lunch in comparative silence. Weir and Ladon went back to talking in nothings. Prenum ate delicately, chewing every mouthful carefully. Breen said, Mummy told me to chew all my food six times before swallowing. I think, responded Beckett, that chappy probably has a lot of Mummy issues. Yeah, said Breen, I feel real sorry for him.

As the Genii got up to leave, Prenum turned to Tynan who was helping himself to the leftover food.

"Tynan," he said. "What is

"Dr Tynan," the policeman sniffed.

Prenum looked like he was forcing himself to smile. "Dr Tynan," he said. "This equipment that we need, what is it called?"

"Oh, that," said Tynan munching into some sort of Athosian delicacy. "It's called a sonic screwdriver."

"And there it is," murmured Beckett.

"I think we're going to be okay on that as long as Prenum doesn't expect either McKay or Tynan to produce one," said Barker.

"You can buy them at the BBC Shop," said Stretton. He caught Sheppard's hint of a smile and shrugged. "One of my daughters has a crush on the latest Doctor. She's collecting everything. Sadly, no BBC Shop in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Yeah," said Barker mournfully. "We miss out on all the good stuff."

They watched the cameras as the Genii made their way to the gateroom, listening via their radios to the conversation between Weir and Ladon. Every now and again, Ronon or Teyla bumped into Prenum. The Genii stiffened and moved away. In the mirrored room, Tynan had put his head down on the table. Beckett eyed him for a moment and excused himself. He went into the room and got himself a drink. After a moment, Tynan looked up. He looks buggered, said the conga line. Beckett agreed.

"Fuck. Me," said Tynan rubbing his eyes.

"You're not my type," said Beckett. "You know a lot about nuclear bombs."

"I have a good memory," Tynan yawned. "Most of that crap I just memorized overnight. I have no idea whether or not any of it made sense."

The radio crackled and Sheppard said, "They've gone. We're going to the conference room."

Beckett looked over to the mirror and nodded. He said to Tynan, "Colonel Sheppard said you were baffling them with bullshit. He seemed to think that you knew what you were talking about, though."

Tynan paused as if waiting for something. Eventually he said, "Did Mr Stretton say anything?"

"Only that you were a quick study," Beckett replied. "Have you done a lot of undercover work?"

"I've done a little bit of everything," he said. "Bit like you." He paused again. "How did things go in there?" He indicated the mirror.

"Bit of a celebration when Prenum said that line from _Doctor Who_," said Beckett.

"Had trouble not doing a handstand meself with that one," said Tynan. He yawned again. "Best see what's happening." He got up and headed to the door. He turned back and said amiably, "You coming?"

By the time they got to where everyone had assembled an argument was in full swing. Weir was vehement in her refusal to allow a "visit" to the Genii homeworld. Stretton was equally firm that one was necessary. Weir was fiery; Stretton was cold and each time she came up with an argument against it, he came up with one for it.

Finally, Weir appealed to Sheppard. "John, this is foolhardy."

Sheppard shook his head. "It's risky, highly risky, but I agree with Cameron,"-Weir looked miffed at his use of Stretton's first name-"we have to go."

Stretton eyed him. "Who is this we?"

"I'm going," said Sheppard firmly.

"No, you're not," said Stretton and Weir at the same time. Stretton said, "Oh look, we agree on something, Dr Weir." She pursed her lips in annoyance and he said, "It's for the same reasons as you not being able to go to lunch, Colonel. You show up and everything will go completely to shit. You're not going." Sheppard looked angry. Stretton said gently, "I know Dr McKay is your friend but you can't go and you know it." He amended, "At least, not on the tour."

"You have a plan," said Sheppard with admiration. "You're a sneaky bastard."

"So I'm told," said Stretton. "Yes, I have a plan."

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Well, I read an absolute bunch about nuclear weapons, no doubt alerting various authorities. Is "I was writing a fanfic?" a good excuse for researching nukes? Then, of course, I decided it all wasn't necessary because it's about the scam and the characters._

_Class A drugs: dunno how drugs are classified elsewhere but in the UK they're categorised by A, B, C, etc, with Class A drugs being the most heinous under the Misuse of Drugs Act. They include heroin, LSD, coke and ecstasy._

_Buggered: No, not that sort. In the vernacular, it means tired._

_Fuck me: Again, not literally. A more polite equivalent would be "good grief"._

_Next: Big ears strikes again._


	16. Chapter 16

_Meanwhile, that same evening and the morning after …_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 16**

Today, Carson Beckett considered, was a successful day. People were on a bit of a high knowing that Rodney McKay was alive and probably, as Sheppard put it, annoying the crap out of the Genii. Oh, they hadn't got him back and he was still in danger but the general opinion was that alive was better than dead. Alive and a prisoner of the Genii was better than alive and on a hive ship's dinner menu. Normally Sheppard would still be cast down at the people they'd lost but this was McKay and he had laughed earlier at something Ronan said, laughing with genuine enjoyment for what seemed like the first time in weeks.

There were no police officers in sight. After the meeting had broken up, Breen had said somewhat drowsily that he was going for a kip. Barker had gone to check on his badly neglected poisonous bugs. Tynan had disappeared after receiving congratulations for his performance from Sheppard. Weir had been cordial to him but had queried his knowledge of how nuclear weaponry worked. He had yawned in the middle of his reply, had waved his hand, and Breen and Barker had chorused, "Wikipedia" together. His yawn turned into a laugh and he'd gone. The other two had disappeared as well murmuring something about plans and studying reports through the night.

Beckett was tired himself after the adrenaline had worn off but decided to go for a meandering walk back from the mess to the infirmary. Normally he wasn't adventurous enough to go outside his crow flies route but tonight was a little different. Besides he told himself, if Sheppard could go wandering about the city willy-nilly so could Carson Beckett; he had the Ancient gene and he could get himself out of trouble if needed. The conga line sneered at his bravado.

He was out by one of the grounding stations. It was quiet but the route, from the various bits of equipment stacked here and there, was well traveled. He thought about sitting out there for a while just to watch the ocean but hesitated thinking of the work he had to catch up on. Work. Ocean. He tossed both up in the air and waited for one to come down. Neither did. As he reached the corner around from the grounding station he could hear voices. His feet slowed. He knew that Sheppard came out here sometimes-or was that one of the piers?-and if he had company Beckett didn't want to disturb them. Lord knows, the man rarely got a moment to himself and Beckett always thought Sheppard really preferred a solitary life.

Beckett strained his ears but he could only just make out the voices at the grounding station. The doors were open and the wind brought snatches of the conversation to him.

He whispered to the conga line, "Mr Stretton? And?"

Tynan, they whispered back. Arguing?

If so, he muttered to them silently, we shouldn't be here.

But, they said, you're curious and you may as well cave in.

" … will not stand … you … and … divided …" came Stretton's voice sounding harsh. " … don't care who … working … or … met … anyone else. Clear?"

Tynan's voice came loud but subdued. "Yes, sir." There was a pause then the wind blew his words away. "But … respectfully … duties … I … except … orders, sir."

Beckett mumbled to the conga line that it sounded like he was saluting with every word.

Stretton responded, " … goes beyond … objectives … duty …"

Tynan replied, " … was told … I know that … I can't get … but …" And then he said, "Dr Grodin …"

"Ah," said Stretton. "The truth …"

And the wind blew the other way again. Damn, said Beckett and the conga line together. Oh yes, Beckett felt a little guilty about eavesdropping even though he was only hearing snatches, but this was diff … okay, it wasn't different but just as at the Athosian settlement his feet felt frozen. Could he creep away without been seen or heard? Probably. Did he not want to be seen or heard? Most definitely. The last thing he wanted was either one of them to ask what he was doing.

He stepped backwards and something crunched. Shit. The conga line cringed as the voices fell silent. He fell into a small antechamber close by and forced his Ancient gene into locking the door. We hope you'll be able to get us out of this cupboard, said the conga line pointedly. He heard a set of footsteps go past. A few minutes later he heard another. He waited a few minutes more before making his escape and heading straight to the infirmary. Don't gossip, don't eavesdrop, you're a doctor, his Mum's voice told him firmly. As if it weren't bad enough with a conga line in his head, now his mother kept reminding him of proper and dignified behavior.

He heard Laura Cadman's giggle as he was approaching the infirmary. She had come by a few times after he'd released her. At the time he self-absorbedly wasn't much aware of anything except himself. Later he realized she was worried about him and that she thought he was offended by her kicking him on the planet. He had planned to make it up to her and now was a good enough time.

He opened his mouth to give her a cheery greeting as he came into the infirmary but it snapped shut almost immediately. Laura Cadman was sitting on a chair facing Cameron Stretton. Their knees, he was very displeased to see, were almost touching. _Isn't he married?_ he asked the conga line. In fact, wasn't he married _with children_? Stretton was holding her hand-_holding her hand_, he said to himself indignantly. Nothing had come of his tentative romance with her but that didn't mean they weren't good friends. She didn't like Stretton. She said so. Uh, said the conga line, no she didn't. Beckett told them to shut up.

He decided to be breezy. "Ah, patients!" he said brightly.

"Hey, Carson," said Cadman looking around Stretton who had leaned back in his chair. He seemed faintly amused but Beckett could see how tired he was. "Just came by to see if you wanted to get a coffee. Mr Stretton was showing me how to do that hand thing with the pressure point." She stopped talking and looked alarmed. "I can't kill anyone with that, can I?" she asked Stretton.

"Might come in handy," he replied. "But no, it just hurts."

"Oh, okay," she said. "Meet me in the mess, Carson?"

"Give me a little while," Beckett said absently, watching the policeman carefully. Headache, he thought, rapidly turning into a migraine.

Cadman waved as she left. Stretton didn't say anything. He had his eyes closed. Beckett went to his medicine cabinet and shook out some tablets and poured a glass of water.

"Here," he said, holding out his hands, tablets in one, glass in the other.

Stretton opened his eyes and looked at the tablets. He blinked but still said nothing.

"Before your headache turns into a migraine," Beckett recommended. "Do you get them often?"

"No," said Stretton.

"Liar," said Beckett as much for retaliation as for the reaction.

Stretton took the tablets and the water but only said, "Thank you." Stubborn, as bad as Sheppard. Stretton swallowed the tablets, coughed a little, and eyed Beckett. "Girlfriend?"

"Hnh, what?" Beckett was startled. "Er, Laura?"

"Yes," he replied. "Er, Laura."

"No!" said Beckett. "Well, I thought, once maybe but not after our 'first kiss'"-his fingers did the quote-"was via Rodney McKay."

Stretton looked puzzled. "Sorry, what?"

Beckett explained the whole Wraith beam thing with McKay and Cadman. By the end of it, Stretton was, he thought, trying not to look revolted.

"Shouldn't have asked," Stretton said. "That's got to be one of the wackiest things I've heard here yet."

"Should've have seen it from my point of view," said Beckett feelingly.

"No, thanks," said Stretton. "Life-sucking aliens seem easier to deal with somehow. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Dr Beckett."

"Good night," said Beckett. Then he blurted out, "Why did you come here?"

"Headache tablets," said Stretton.

"No, I meant why did you come to Atlantis?" asked Beckett. He was treading on dangerous ground but the snippets he heard had to mean something.

"Dr Grodin. Remember him?" said Stretton with some little irony.

"I know," Beckett said. "But why you? Your team and you, in particular?"

Stretton was silent, staring at Beckett fixedly until the doctor shifted uncomfortably.

Eventually he said, "Why do you think we were sent here because of me?" As Beckett opened his mouth to respond, he added, "I have no objection to your eavesdropping, Dr Beckett. I'm presuming it was accidental and that you couldn't have heard or understood much. I wouldn't let Ben know. He's currently feeling rather kindly towards you and it makes for a smoother working relationship if I don't have to keep telling one of my team to shut his mouth."

"Does he know?" said Beckett, a little alarmed.

"I didn't get that impression but if you recall, Ben is rather good at pretending to be other people," said Stretton. "Pretending not to know that someone is eavesdropping on a conversation isn't much of a stretch."

"What would he do?" an even more alarmed Beckett squeaked.

"He'd probably lapse into that peculiar Glaswegian patois and call you-what was it?-a 'gowk' and a 'keech'. I have no idea what either of them mean but somehow I gathered that they weren't compliments."

"Um, no," said Beckett quietly. "How did …?"

"As I pointed out to Colonel Sheppard, I'm a police officer, Dr Beckett. I find out things," said Stretton. "And you will tell me if anything further happens with Tynan. Is that clear?"

Beckett said hurriedly, "Nothing happened."

"Is that clear?" Stretton repeated.

"Yes, sir," mumbled Beckett fighting the urge to snap to attention. We don't think the police do attention, said the conga line, but by all means, if you want to. Shhh, Beckett said to them.

"Good," said Stretton rubbing his temple in pain. "And again, goodnight Dr Beckett."

"Goodnight," echoed Beckett.

He let out a deep breath after Stretton left. The man was as puzzling as Sheppard and frankly, just as scary. He hadn't elaborated on the plan of Operation Rodney-as Sheppard had dubbed it-but the Colonel had asked directly, still a little miffed about not being allowed to go, what experience Stretton had in hostage recovery. Yes, said Weir, folding her arms, that was a good point. Rather more than either of you, I suspect, Stretton had replied. Chatham, standing behind him, had made a "The fish was this big!" sign, indicating that "rather more" meant "quite a lot." What hadn't he done? What hadn't all of them done? And what, put in the conga line, was the thing about objectives, duty and Peter Grodin? I don't know, Beckett replied, but I'd like to find out.

He made his way upstairs to meet Laura Cadman in the mess hall. Canteen, the conga line corrected. Whatever, he said. Cadman wasn't there. Hnmpf, he thought. Sheppard, however, was. His elation had obviously gone. He looked almost ill. Beckett had told Stretton that Sheppard had the weight of the expedition on his shoulders but he wondered whether or not it was only that; he imagined that Sheppard also had the weight of his own expectations, his own guilt, perhaps. Beckett didn't know what Sheppard had to be guilty about-his actions to save Atlantis so many times notwithstanding-but the man just seemed to bear everything more heavily than anyone else he'd known. Beckett didn't know if Sheppard had a place or family on Earth outside of his listed next of kin but it really didn't matter. Atlantis was his home now. He fitted. Sheppard was sitting out on the balcony and had a "leave me alone" aura surrounding him. Other people in the mess did but Beckett was braver.

"You should get some sleep," he said.

Sheppard gave him an assessing look. "Physician heal thyself," he said.

"This isn't about me," quoted Beckett.

Sheppard glared. "Touché, Carson." Beckett gave him a get on with it look and sat down. "What if it all goes-what was that word they used?-_pearshaped_?"

"You don't normally second guess yourself, Colonel," said Beckett.

"I'm not second guessing myself," replied Sheppard. "I'm second guessing them."

"Don't like not being in control, do you," commented Beckett gently.

Sheppard looked uncomfortable. "Not much," he admitted.

"Do you trust Mr Stretton?" Beckett inquired.

"Yes," said Sheppard instantly. He looked slightly surprised at his own response. "I'm not sure if I trust …" His voice trailed off.

"Who?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard opened his mouth, closed it, looked around, and leaned in to say softly, "There's something weird about Tynan, don't you think?"

"Not who he says he is?" said Beckett equally softly. He related what little he'd heard. "It may be nothing."

"If I asked Cameron, do you think he'd answer?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"No," said Beckett. "At least, you'd get a response but it wouldn't be what you'd expect. He's a canny policeman, that one." They fell silent for a moment. Sheppard stared out at the water. Beckett repeated, "It may be nothing. I just got the impression that Tynan has done more than just being an undercover policeman."

"Like what?" asked Sheppard. "Because I got that, too. That gun, for instance. There's no way that's a police issue rifle in any jurisdiction."

"I think that's what Mr Stretton was annoyed about," said Beckett. "The gun. I think he was in the army."

"I don't think the British Army has guns like that either," said Sheppard. "From his proficiency with it, though, I'd say he has sniper training."

"Box," said Beckett suddenly.

"Bless you," said Sheppard looking confused.

"Box 500," said Beckett more to himself than Sheppard who shook his head. "Just thinking aloud, Colonel. I mean, the Security Services."

"You think Tynan's a spy?" said Sheppard disbelievingly.

"Being in MI5-MI6?-might explain a few things," said Beckett. "Don't you think that non-American spy agencies would love to know about Atlantis and everything else?"

They stared at each other for a long, long moment. And then, at the same time, both of them burst out laughing. They couldn't stop.

Finally, Sheppard managed in-between giggles to say, "Oh god, I needed that."

"I may not be wrong," said Beckett still chuckling.

"Yeah, well, would he be that obvious?" said Sheppard more loudly. "Maybe we're supposed to think that. Ooh, a spy."

"Who's a spy?" asked Chatham standing in the doorway looking amused at the giggling Atlanteans.

"Your Tynan," said Sheppard still smiling but slightly challenging.

"And you came to that conclusion how?" Chatham looked like she was going to start laughing herself.

"The rifle," said Beckett and Sheppard together. Sheppard added, "He knows an awful lot that isn't explained by being a quick study."

"He was in the army. A sniper. He doesn't talk about it much," said Chatham. Sheppard and Beckett glanced at each other. "He is also, believe it or not, one of the prime movers behind a panto program for underprivileged kids."

"He's an actor?" a very skeptical Beckett asked.

"Plays Santa every year at the Christmas party, too. He's hilarious," confirmed Chatham. "And he fundraises for a kids reading program as well. He goes off on these rants about kids these days being all triumph of the airheads and how teenagers don't know anything about anything, which he's generally not wrong about. He's a Mr Facts man and a natural actor, which makes him an ideal candidate for covert policing. Though, it's a wonder he has time to do any police work at all because, of course, he has to apparently fit in his spying activities." She looked droll.

"I wouldn't mind knowing about that rifle anyway," said Sheppard.

"Well, Cameron belted him around the head-figuratively speaking-and Ben told him he'd modified it himself," said Chatham. "Cameron wasn't happy about it."

"Because Tynan had the gun or because he didn't get told," asked Beckett shrewdly.

She snorted out a laugh. "The latter," she said. "He could hardly complain about the gun, Ben having saved our lives. I don't like his chances of keeping it, though."

"Does he get migraines very often?" asked Beckett back into doctor mode to take advantage of Chatham being talkative.

"Ben?" asked Chatham looking puzzled.

"No, your Cameron," said Beckett.

"Oh," she said softly. "Really?" Beckett nodded. "No, not often. Did you give him something?"

"Some tablets," said Beckett. "He wasn't at the seeing spots and vomiting stage but he ought to have a good night's sleep." Next to him, Sheppard shifted uncomfortably and Beckett said briskly, "As should you, Colonel. I don't want to be handing out lots of migraine tablets to you either."

"I don't get migraines, Carson," said Sheppard.

The look on Beckett's face called Sheppard a liar. "Who do you think you're fooling, son?" Beckett sniped in his best Chief Surgeon's voice. "Go to bed, Colonel."

"I'm fine, Carson," said Sheppard.

"Bed," repeated Beckett firmly.

"Come on, Colonel," said Chatham looking entertained at Beckett's highhandedness. "I'd do as he says. He seems quite ferocious."

"Why don't I escort you to your room?" suggested Sheppard.

"Why, Colonel," she mocked. "Are you flirting with me?"

"You bet," said Sheppard enthusiastically fake. "Will it get me information on what your boss has planned?"

"That'd be a no but you can escort me anyway," she said smiling at him.

Sheppard made an after you gesture and walked a few steps, Chatham ahead of him. He stopped, turned, and said quietly, "Thank you, Carson."

Beckett blinked, his eyes suddenly stinging. Somehow a simple thank you from John Sheppard meant more than high praise from anyone else. He got himself a tea but barely had time for a few sips before Sheppard and Chatham came back.

"Something wrong?" asked Beckett.

"You're not wearing your radio, Dr Beckett," said Chatham.

He felt his ear; so he wasn't. "Leaf out of Mr Stretton's book," he said. "What's happened?"

"Prenum's coming back tomorrow to discuss a visit," said Sheppard. "Wants a chat." To Chatham he said, "Do we wake him up?"

She looked at her watch and sighed. "Yes, no, yes, no," she said indecisively. "How strong were those tablets?"

"Strong enough," Beckett responded. "Enough to knock him out until morning."

"Let him sleep, then," she said. And mock severely to Sheppard, "And you, too, Colonel. Where were we?"

"After you, miss," said Sheppard in the worst English accent Beckett had ever heard. Chatham, too, from the look on her face.

They headed off again and Beckett drank his tea. Cadman didn't show up so he went back to the infirmary. There was a note on his computer from her saying he should wear his radio and that she got roped into guard duty. There was a little love heart at the bottom. He put the note up on his calendar and settled in to do some paperwork.

Eventually, through a thick fog, he could hear someone calling his name. He leapt out of his chair and almost hit Teyla standing at his door.

"Err nnumnnnngh waaah ?" he managed articulately.

"Good morning, Carson," she said sweetly. "Elizabeth wishes for you to join us in the conference room."

"Uhngh?" he replied.

"You fell asleep at your desk," Teyla said helpfully. "Again."

"Nnnnh," he said running his hand through his hair.

Teyla took him by the arm. "Have a shower, Carson," she said. "And meet us in the conference room. Put your radio on." She looked at him. "Is this all right?"

He nodded dazedly and said, "Uh nnn."

"Good," Teyla said. "I will come back if you are not in the conference room shortly." He collapsed in his chair and she eyed him. She bent to his ear and bellowed, "WAKE UP, CARSON!"

"Yes, yes!" he said finally getting his tongue to work.

"I will see you soon, Carson."

Beckett stumbled to the shower and made it up to the conference room in 15 minutes. He had decided to be chirpy until he saw the Bobbsey Twins-Sheppard and Stretton. The tablets obviously hadn't helped Stretton much. He looked like he had no sleep at all. Sheppard was the same. Both looked exhausted and bad-tempered; both were nursing coffee and looked nauseous at the smell of it. Weir came in and looked askance at her senior military officer and the visiting policeman.

"Been out on the town, have we?" she inquired.

Sheppard said "Shut up" at the same time as Stretton said, "Piss off."

"Excuse me?" she blinked.

"Sorry, Elizabeth," sighed Sheppard. "I didn't get much sleep."

Of course, Beckett considered, the problem for Elizabeth with Stretton not being part of her expedition is that he could get away with not apologizing. He took a drink of his coffee, winced at the smell and taste, and looked over the top of his mug at her. He said nothing and her mouth tightened.

"Those headache tablets didn't do much good, Mr Stretton," Beckett put in. "Come by the infirmary and I'll prescribe you something else."

Weir looked at the policeman closely. Beckett shook his head at her and mouthed "Migraine." She nodded in understanding and sat down.

"So, Prenum is coming back," she said.

"Can't I torture him just a little," Sheppard begged.

Stretton rubbed an eye. "Certainly," he said.

"Really?" Sheppard looked suspicious.

"No," Stretton said. "But we'll be playing this one by ear, I think. I am interested to know what sort of justice system they have, if any."

"Why?" Beckett asked. "What difference does it make?"

"Because despite the differences between them, people recognize a system of justice. The essential tenets are the same whether a system has guilty until proven innocent, innocent until proven guilty or not proven, capital punishment, whatever," Stretton said. He winced again and touched his temple. "If they have some sort of policing system or justice system it would be helpful, particularly if in the end we have to appeal to Ladon to get Dr McKay back."

"I don't think Prenum would care," said Sheppard.

"Perhaps not," Weir said slowly. "But Ladon might."

"Could we confront Prenum?" asked Teyla.

"He'd just deny it," said Sheppard. "And then he'd get rid of the evidence."

Everyone in the room got what that meant.

"When is he expected?" asked Beckett.

The gateroom alarm sounded.

"Now, I think," said Weir. "Where is 'Dr' Tynan?"

"Waiting in the wings," said Chatham.

Weir hurried down the stairs and everyone else shifted over to the control room. Sheppard was shoved to the back of the group. He muttered a complaint and was shushed by Teyla.

He peered over Stretton's shoulder. "That's not Prenum," he observed.

"No, it isn't," said Stretton. "Why don't you find out who he is?"

"Who? Me?" demanded Sheppard. "What, I'm allowed to participate?"

"Why not?" Stretton said absently watching the servile-looking little creature who had come through the gate. "He looks a bit nervous and I'm told you can be quite scary sometimes, Colonel."

Sheppard beamed but said, "And what if he maintains his right to silence?"

"There's no right to silence in the UK, Colonel," said Chatham. "Maybe you should implement that one here."

"What? None?" said Sheppard looking a little outraged.

"Since when?" demanded Beckett.

"Since the _Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994_, although the European Court of Human Rights tends to disagree," said Stretton. "It's not in the police caution. And I doubt whether the Genii have it. Go have a chat, Colonel."

Sheppard galloped off down the stairs. He slowed as he got to the bottom and sang out, "You didn't tell me we were expecting a visitor, Elizabeth."

Weir looked startled and glanced up at Stretton who made a play along motion with his hand.

"Anscom," she said to the little man. "This is Lt Colonel John Sheppard, the senior military officer in Atlantis."

Sheppard shook Anscom's hand enthusiastically. "How you doing?" he said cheerfully.

"Doing what?" Anscom said looking deathly afraid.

"Your reputation has preceded you, Colonel," noted Beckett out of hearing range.

"I meant, how are you?" said Sheppard. "What can we help you with?"

"Um uh," Anscom began. "Prenum was due to come but was called away by one of our scientists. I am here to ask about the sonic screwdriver device."

"Rodney's given them more information," Beckett said.

Sheppard took Anscom's arm and dragged him up the stairs. "Why don't we talk about it in here?" he said. The doors slid smoothly shut on Sheppard, Weir and Anscom.

"What do you think, Cameron?" asked Chatham.

"I think Dr McKay threw a spanner in the works at the last minute and Prenum had to take care of it," he replied. "And this little chappy is one of the scientists."

"Think he'll roll over?" she said.

"Oh yes," Stretton said. "Without too much trouble at all. Ms Emmagen, would you tell Colonel Sheppard and Dr Weir that we're coming in?"

Teyla touched her radio and spoke into it as Stretton and Chatham walked across to the conference room. The doors opened. Beckett and Teyla glanced at each other and headed across, too. Anscom looked worried at the invasion.

"Um uh, who," he swallowed. "Who is this?"

"This is Mr Stretton and Ms Chatham," said Sheppard cordially. He didn't introduce Teyla or Beckett. "They're police officers. Do you know what that is, Anscom?"

Stretton and Chatham had on their police officer faces. They didn't say anything but watched Anscom interestedly as he shook his head in response to Sheppard's question.

Sheppard outlined a police officer's job. Succinct and to the point, thought Beckett.

"What do you want with me?" blustered Anscom.

Stretton leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He watched Anscom become more nervous by the second.

"Good morning, Anscom. I'm investigating the murder of 38 Atlantis personnel and the disappearance of Dr Rodney McKay," he said finally.

That was unexpected to everyone in the room but Chatham judging by the dropped jaws, including Beckett's.

"And," Stretton added with exquisite irony, Beckett thought, as though he enjoyed saying the time honored Metropolitan Police television cliché, "I believe you may be able to assist me with my enquiries."

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Box 500 was the wartime postal address of MI5, aka the Security Service._

_Panto: do Americans have pantomime? A theatrical event that's (mostly) for children usually based around fairy stories and legends. Usually happens around Christmas. Puss in Boots is a favourite. They have song, dance, audience participation, the whole works. Every single theatre cliché is crammed into a panto._

_I don't think I have to explain the Bobbsey Twins?_

_There is no right to silence in the UK police caution. It says, as per whatever chapter I cited it, "You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." Essentially, if you say nothing then the question will come up in court of why you didn't say something that would help your case. It's very tricky. The European Court of Human Rights recognises the right to silence._

_Next: Carson gets some action!_


	17. Chapter 17

_In which we find out what's up with the whole Wikipedia thing ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 17**

Carson Beckett didn't like sniveling people. When he had a good old snivel himself-like with Lucius-inside he was saying, oh, shut up, you whinging little man. But sniveling people other than himself were worse, which probably wasn't a good attitude for a doctor. Even so, Anscom grated less than most. The Genii scientist was clearly terrified and was indeed, as Stretton said, no trouble at all. It took him less than five minutes to confess the Genii did kill the Atlantis personnel and take McKay hostage. He is _very_ useful, said Anscom becoming enthusiastic until he saw Sheppard's face. Stretton glanced over at Sheppard, indicated the door and they went out together. The policeman came back in a few minutes later; Sheppard had not. Oh dear, said the conga line, just when they were getting on so well.

Stretton asked Weir to leave as well. She refused. He said if she didn't he would pick her up and dump her outside the door. It was said very softly. Beckett opened his mouth in outrage but Chatham put her fingers to her lips in a don't-draw-attention-to-yourself gesture. Weir had looked furious and had stamped out.

"Was that necessary?" asked Beckett.

"Shhh," said Stretton.

"No," said Beckett. "Why am I still here?"

"I don't know," said Stretton coldly. "Why _are_ you still here?"

Beckett followed his gaze to Anscom trembling in his seat. He folded his arms and sat back in his seat. Sometimes Stretton was sympathetic and kind; the rest of the time he was a pompous ass. Surprisingly Stretton said nothing else, and leaned forward again towards Anscom.

"Must be hard," said Stretton sympathetically.

"What?" said Anscom.

"Your job. It must be hard," said Stretton. His voice was kindly uncle-ish.

"I like my work," squeaked Anscom.

"What do you like about it?" asked Stretton.

"The … the research. It's very exciting, bringing new science to the Genii," said Anscom.

"Because it helps your people," said Stretton.

"Yes. Yes, it does," said Anscom.

"Can you tell me anything about it?" Stretton asked. "Of course, anything that's not a secret. Obviously, Prenum"-Anscom flinched-"would be unhappy if you mentioned anything that was a secret."

"Yes," said Anscom faintly. He looks awful, observed the conga line. "Prenum is … is … is …"

"I don't think," began Beckett.

"Be quiet, Dr Beckett. So, Prenum's bit tough?" interspersed Stretton smoothly. "How'd he get to be in charge? I would have thought someone …" His voice trailed off meaningfully.

"A good scientist, dedicated to his work," put in Chatham. "Good with people."

Stretton nodded, "Good with people, yes. Very important."

"Prenum is good with people," Anscom said immediately.

"Yes, I got that when he visited here," said Stretton. "Gets along well with Ladon. They seemed very close."

"Oh no, Prenum thinks Ladon …" Anscom cut himself off abruptly.

"Mr Stretton," said Beckett warningly.

Stretton just replied, "So, you were telling me about your work. You must be very important for Prenum"-Anscom flinched again-"to have sent you on this assignment."

Anscom gulped. He was beetle red and breathing heavily.

"Stop," Beckett said suddenly.

Stretton ignored him again.

"Tell me about Prenum," he said.

"No!" Anscom cried standing up abruptly. His eyes rolled up and Stretton quickly reached across the table to grab him before he hit his head on the table.

"Shit," Stretton said dismissively. "Well, that hasn't happened in a while."

"In a _while_?" rapped out Beckett. "I said to stop!" Into his radio, he said, "Medical team to the conference room."

The door opened immediately and Weir and Sheppard came in. Anscom was on the floor moaning dramatically.

"What the hell happened?" asked Weir.

"He fainted," said Stretton impassively. "A little stressed by his boss, I fear. Dr Beckett, tell me when I can continue questioning him."

"No," Beckett sniped. He was overreacting, he knew.

"Fine," Stretton said. "Have Colonel Sheppard question him."

"Me?" said Sheppard looking a little dismayed at Anscom. Sheppard didn't like sniveling people either.

"I'm sure you'll be gentle, Colonel," Stretton said.

He walked out. Sheppard followed him saying, "Wait a minute."

Chatham stayed, her arms folded.

"Going to defend him?" asked Beckett sitting Anscom up and giving him some water.

She let out a "hah" breath which he didn't think was agreeing with him. A medical team pushed into the room and Beckett directed them to put Anscom on the gurney and take him down to the infirmary.

"Carson?" asked Weir moving out of the way so the gurney could get through.

"Not now," said Beckett. "I have a patient."

Sheppard arrived in the infirmary 10 minutes later and waited for Beckett.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Anscom fainted," said Beckett shortly.

"I got that," Sheppard wanted to know. "Did Cameron push him too hard or what?"

"Yes," said Beckett. "No."

"Which one, Carson?" said Sheppard impatiently.

Beckett sighed. "No," he said. "But yes. Both. Anscom's got"-he looked around and lowered his voice-"he's probably got a 1000 conga lines in his head and I'd say that Prenum put them there. He's right on the edge, Colonel, and he's very afraid. He has to go back there."

"So any questioning would have pushed him over," said Sheppard.

"I told Mr Stretton to stop and he didn't," said Beckett.

"Look Carson, he knows about Rodney," said Sheppard, "Give him something to calm him down."

"Will you question him?" asked Beckett.

"I dunno if you've noticed Carson but I'm not all that good at questioning people. They don't teach interrogation techniques in helicopter pilot school. Do you think I'd do a better job of it?" asked Sheppard. "Thanks for the vote of confidence but you saw him; the little guy was scared stiff of me. I'd probably give him a heart attack."

Beckett looked at the sleeping Anscom. He had dosed him up on sedatives to indeed calm him down but in the scared little man he'd seen himself for a moment. He didn't like what he saw.

"Wait," he said. He clicked on his radio. "Mr Stretton?" No answer. "DI Chatham?"

She responded immediately, "Dr Beckett?"

"Can you and Mr Stretton come to the infirmary, please?" he asked.

"On our way," she said.

When they both came into the infirmary, Beckett handed Stretton tablets and water. He swallowed them without comment. Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"Well?" Stretton said.

"I've sedated him," said Beckett. "He's asleep now but he should be all right to speak to in a few hours."

"Do we have a few hours?" asked Chatham. "Wouldn't Prenum be expecting him back?"

"Prenum will have to wait," said Beckett firmly. "We're not sending him back."

"At all?" asked Sheppard. "Carson …"

"He's at breaking point, Colonel," Beckett said, his voice cracking just a little. He looked at Stretton. "What do you think?"

"I have no opinion on whether you should send him back," said Stretton.

"Do you really not have an opinion or are you just not giving your opinion?" Sheppard asked.

"I really have no opinion," said Stretton. "I have an opinion on the job at hand."

"Okay," Sheppard waved his hand.

"Do you want to get back Dr McKay?" Stretton asked.

"Of course, we bloody do," snapped Beckett.

"Then, he,"-Stretton pointed at Anscom-"has all the information you need to know. If you want Dr McKay back then you have to get him to talk. He knows where McKay is, he knows how they're treating him, and I bet he even knows how Prenum managed to get a Wraith dart to work. He's your source. This is a boon to you getting back Dr McKay. He's very likely complicit no matter how much strain he's under. Don't waste your chance by coddling him."

"You know, Barker said you were a hatchet man, a toecutter. What does that mean exactly?" said Beckett.

"It means that if they like what I do, I get a commendation. If they don't, I get done," said Stretton.

"I'll be there when you question him," said Beckett. "If I say stop, stop."

"I have a better idea," Stretton said. He smiled a little grimly. "I think this calls for a social worker …"

Heightmeyer arrived looking flustered and was hauled off to be briefed. Beckett insisted that he'd be in the room and there would be no guards in sight. Anscom wasn't a threat, he said, and he would not allow him to be frightened into-he glanced at Sheppard-a heart attack. Sheppard protested saying that someone that much on the edge should certainly be considered at least a little dangerous. I will not have him bullied, said Beckett, looking at the policeman. Stretton said, you wound me, Dr Beckett. Beckett replied crossly that Stretton was a complete arse and he wished him the death of a 1000 papercuts. Stretton gave him one of those sudden delighted smiles but it just made Beckett even grumpier. All they had to do was wait for Anscom to wake up. Beckett assigned a few nurses to keep an eye on him after Sheppard insisted that he had to eat and took him off to the mess. He's certainly taking staff health issues seriously, isn't he, the conga line said with admiration.

Beckett and Sheppard exchanged half-hearted banter-better banter than health issues, considered Beckett-and were joined eventually by Tynan, Barker and Breen. It was progress of sorts considered Beckett. Tynan was affable and chatty; Beckett couldn't tell if he knew that odd conversation had been overheard or not.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sheppard said to Tynan curiously.

"Yes, sir," nodded Tynan.

"Why do you keep citing Wikipedia?"

"Oh, please don't get him started," pleaded Breen.

Tynan slapped him across the bad of the head. "Because, sir, it annoys the crap out of me. All these idiot people using an encyclopedia that anyone can add to. For chrissakes, any fuckwit-me, for example-can get on there and update it. You don't have to do any research, you don't have to be an expert on anything. And people rave about it as though it's the be all and end all of knowledge. Well, it isn't, it's just a tool for lazy people who don't want to do their own research." Tynan warmed to his theme.

"See?" Breen said wryly.

"I was kinda wondering how you checked it being in another galaxy," said Sheppard. "Like the physics stuff. Bring it with you?"

"Of course not." Tynan got a little snappier. "I borrowed some stuff off Dr Zelenka and added that to what I remembered from school. I read a lot. I read some books ages ago on the Manhattan Project and the British tests at Maralinga in Australia. Why would I use some useless article in an online encyclopedia and not actual physics books?"

Sheppard had almost shrunk back in his seat at Tynan's increasingly ranting tone. "Sorry, I asked," he said.

"Are you on about how stupid people are again?" Chatham sat down at the table.

"Well, they are," said Tynan almost sulkily.

"Maybe so," said Chatham. "But people don't like being reminded."

"The entomology entries on Wikipedia aren't bad," said Barker.

"Are any of them yours?" Breen asked him. "And the forensic stuff isn't too bad either."

"No," replied Barker. "You?"

"No," said Breen. "But do you think I'd admit it in front of him?" He pointed at Tynan who sniffed haughtily.

"Ben, Mr Stretton wants you in the conference room," said Chatham. "Colonel, we've had Dr Weir call Ladon to protest that they sent an unwell man to us and she asked that they send a Genii doctor to ensure his well-being. She said that she didn't want anyone to say that we made him sick. She was very firm about it-she's a really good liar. Ladon was a bit quiet but said that he trusted Dr Beckett would take care of Anscom. He said he would take care of things his end. I presume he meant take care of Prenum."

As Sheppard nodded, Tynan asked, "Mr Stretton didn't say what he wanted me for?"

"Go find out," she made shooing motions at him. "You two"-she indicated Barker and Breen-"finish your tea and make yourselves useful. It's not permanent refs around here."

Beckett waited until Tynan had walked out and asked, "Does DS Tynan have a degree?"

"BA (Hons) of I Know Better," said Breen promptly and immediately relented. "He's got a bigger brain than the rest of us put together. Don't need a piece of paper for that."

"And your boss?" inquired Sheppard.

"Good thieftaker," Breen and Chatham chorused as they got up from the table.

Beckett and Sheppard were the only ones left in the mess after the police had cleared out.

"When I did my stint as a police surgeon," said Beckett, "there was no higher compliment than to call an officer a good thieftaker. It's worth more than any degree in the police to be good at catching criminals."

"And how are you?" asked Sheppard fiddling with his coffee cup and not looking at Beckett.

"We were talking about the police," protested Beckett at the abrupt change of subject.

"Not anymore," said Sheppard.

"I'm fine," said Beckett a little snappily. "You?"

"Fine," said Sheppard snappy back.

They glared at each other. Beckett broke first and giggled. Sheppard looked down awkwardly shy, a smile playing around his mouth.

"We're a right pair, Colonel," said Beckett.

"_Are_ you okay, Carson?" Sheppard stressed.

"We're doing something, Colonel," said Beckett. "I'm fine with that."

"Dr Beckett, Anscom is waking up," the message came through his radio.

"After you, Dr Beckett," said Sheppard. "Let's see what the, er, _social worker_ can do."

There was no convenient mirror to hide behind in the infirmary so they used the observation room. Beckett had screened parts of it off. Teyla had found some real plants and had again used some of her Athosian knick-knacks to make it more inviting.

Beckett adjusted the drip and as Anscom moaned, he said, "Anscom? Come now, lad, it's time to wake up. Come on now."

Anscom blinked his eyes open and managed a look around the room.

"Wha hnnned?" he got out. "Werani?"

"You're in the infirmary, son," said Beckett gently. "You had a fright and you passed out."

"Fainted," said Sheppard in his ear.

"Fiht …?" Anscom said.

"The scary man was asking you questions"-he couldn't resist the dig and for his troubles a snort came from Stretton through the radio-"and you had a fright," explained Beckett.

Anscom's eyes went wide and he gargled, "Penm!"

"No, no, Prenum's not here," soothed Beckett. "He can't hurt you here."

"Nooo?" Anscom looked pleading.

"I promise," nodded Beckett. "Now, I'm going to go over there"-he pointed at the corner-"and do some work. I'm going to ask a nice lady called Kate to sit with you. You don't have to talk to her if you don't want to. Okay?"

Despite the sedatives, Prenum still looked scared. Beckett noted his reaction on the monitor, frowned, and patted the little man on the hand. He opened the door and Heightmeyer came in carrying a bag.

"Hello Anscom," she smiled at him. "I'm Kate. I'm just going to sit here if that's all right?"

Without allowing him a chance to respond she sat down. He looked at her slightly wide-eyed but she pulled out some knitting and made herself comfortable. The silence stretched out.

"Are those needles clicking?" asked Stretton in Beckett's ear.

"Only a little," he muttered back. "He seems quite calm."

"Who … who are you?" Anscom asked Heightmeyer, finally articulate.

"Kate," she repeated. "Dr Beckett asked me to sit with you while he did some work in case you need anything."

Anscom looked over at Beckett. "What will happen to me?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"Am I a prisoner?" he asked.

"No, we're just waiting for you to feel better," said Heightmeyer sympathetically.

"Dr Heightmeyer," said Stretton. "Tell him that we called Ladon and what happened in the conversation."

"Dr Weir called Ladon to say you were unwell," Heightmeyer said readily. "She asked for a Genii doctor to be sent but Ladon thought it would be better for Dr Beckett to look after you."

"I don't believe you," he said immediately.

"Ladon thought you might be concerned so we recorded the conversation," said Heightmeyer. "Would you like to hear it? Ladon was very concerned about you."

"He was?" Anscom seemed amazed. Heightmeyer played him the recording. Beckett looked at his monitor. Despite the medication, Anscom's heart was racing.

"Ask him what Ladon meant by 'take care of things,' Dr Heightmeyer," directed Stretton.

"See?" she said. "He's very concerned about you."

"Yeeessss," Anscom drew out slowly.

"And that he's going to take care of things for you. I'm not sure what he meant," said Heightmeyer artlessly.

Anscom looked like he was wondering that himself. "I'm not … I don't know," he said.

"Maybe he meant with your research," she suggested. "Or with the people you work with. Who is your boss?"

"P … P … " stuttered Anscom.

"Prenum?" asked Heightmeyer. She repeated exactly what Stretton was saying to her. "I have to admit, I didn't like him much." She paused. "I'm sorry, it's not my place …"

Anscom picked at his blanket and asked, "Why?" hesitantly.

Chatham spoke into her radio to Heightmeyer. "He's a bully."

Heightmeyer paused in her knitting and said, "He reminded me of someone I knew as a child." She offered Anscom some water. "This person was in a position of authority and liked showing it."

"He's not gonna be fooled by this, is he?" queried Sheppard. "The guy's a little nervous but he is supposed to have a brain. He _is_ a scientist."

Heightmeyer paused again and looked annoyed.

There was a muffled "Owww" that sounded like Sheppard and then Stretton said, "Keep it going, Doctor."

"He bullied people that worked for him," said Heightmeyer quickly, as though getting in before any further editorial comments. "I could be wrong about Prenum but he did remind me of this man."

Anscom continued to pluck at the blanket. He didn't look at her.

She touched his hand. "Is Prenum like that, Anscom?"

He sighed, "You're not interested in me."

"Yes, I am," she said. "I want to help."

"You want to know about Dr McKay," he said flatly an odd tone to his voice. "What do you want to know?"

Heightmeyer glanced at Beckett who shook his head. Both of them glanced upwards.

In Beckett's ear, Weir's voice said, "That was a little too easy, wasn't it?"

"Nevertheless, Dr Weir, if he's willing to talk, we'll let him," Stretton's voice responded. "Dr Heightmeyer, ask him if he's willing to give us all the information regarding Dr McKay's condition and his whereabouts; also about the other Atlantis personnel."

She smiled at Anscom, patted his hand, and walked over to Beckett saying quietly, "I don't think it's a good idea to push him."

"He's not being pushed, Doctor, he's volunteering," said Stretton.

She said, "He isn't right. I'm sorry but I don't think he should go through this right now."

"Wait," Weir said suddenly. There was silence then she said, "Prenum has called through. He is insisting we send Anscom back because he's needed. He says that we have an hour."

"Or what?" Sheppard said sounding annoyed. "He gonna declare war on us?"

"He does have nuclear weapons, John." Weir pointed out.

"Fine. Now what?" Sheppard said.

"Dr Heightmeyer, I'm coming down," said Stretton. He arrived a couple of minutes later with Chatham in tow. Without any preamble, he said, "Anscom, where is Dr McKay?"

Anscom swallowed. He looked nervous and his eyes flickered back and forth. His voice was sullen. "He is working in the atomic weapons development laboratory."

"Which is where?" said Stretton.

"Underground, everything's underground," said Anscom. "Didn't you know that?"

"Where? Can you draw a map from …" Stretton stopped.

"The above ground village," said Sheppard.

"The above ground village," Stretton finished. "Dr Beckett, get him some paper and pencil."

Anscom delicately drew a map for them. He took his time.

"Where is the nearest entrance to the lab?" Chatham asked.

Anscom pointed at the map. "There," he said.

"What guards are stationed in the area from the entrance to the laboratory?" Chatham looked at the map.

"There are guards at every corner. You'll never get in," said Anscom a slight sneer entering his voice.

"Where is Dr McKay kept when he's not in the lab?" Stretton asked.

"He's always in the lab. There's a cell there for him," said Anscom. "It was built."

"How long before you kidnapped Dr McKay"-Stretton didn't mention the murdered Atlanteans-"was it built?" he wanted to know.

"What does it matter?" asked Sheppard in everyone's ear.

"Planning," said Chatham out of context for Anscom who gave her an odd look.

"A while ago," Anscom said.

"So, this was a long time in the planning," Chatham said. As Anscom nodded she said, "How did you lure the Atlantis team to the planet where you kidnapped Dr McKay?"

Anscom sniffed that it was easy; all they had to do was tell a man called Gilo that the ruins were strange. "And you came," he said triumphantly.

The muttering that came through Beckett's earpiece was clearly Sheppard.

"What about the Wraith dart?" Stretton queried. "You had a Wraith dart."

"One crashed during the last culling," said Anscom. He was chatty now. "The Wraith was still alive. Prenum feeds it and it does what it's told."

Everyone went very still but Anscom didn't notice. Stretton glanced at Chatham and nodded her out of the room. Beckett followed her.

"Colonel?" she tapped her radio. "Are we caring about who gets fed?"

Weir answered. "If Ladon doesn't know about this then he probably won't know that people are being fed to the Wraith."

Chatham nodded, "Bargaining chip, okay, thank you, Dr Weir."

She went back in and nodded at Stretton. Anscom's eyes followed them. His frightened rabbit persona had disappeared and he seemed far too sure of himself. Heightmeyer looked worried and made "I want to talk to you" head motions at Stretton. He ignored her. Chatham went over and they had a whispered conversation. She nodded, went back, and whispered in Stretton's ear. He made an impatient gesture.

"Anscom," he said and the little man's eyes met his, brimful of confidence. "Why doesn't the Wraith just fly off?"

"I fitted a collar to it," Anscom said. "It has a transmitter and will kill it if it goes too far. It was quite simple really. And I made it disable the part of the ship that allows it to open the stargate."

"Very clever of you," said Stretton. Anscom didn't notice his dryness.

"Yes," he said. "We should have kept the Atlanteans instead of killing them."

"Why?" said Chatham. Her voice was very bland.

"For the Wraith, of course," he replied. "Better to feed it enemies."

"Tell me what happened with the Atlanteans," Stretton said. His face and voice were completely neutral.

Anscom sniffed. "Some of them got injured fighting back so we got rid of those first. We only wanted Dr McKay. The rest were valueless and were dealt with. We made sure some got away, of course."

"How were the rest dealt with?" Chatham asked.

As Anscom detailed coldly, pedantically, how the Atlanteans were murdered, Beckett heard a buzzing sound in his head; he knew what it was. He could only imagine how Sheppard and Weir were feeling.

"Dr McKay was injured," he heard Stretton say.

Anscom's tone was mulish, "That was an accident. Stupid guard."

"Was he badly injured?" Stretton said.

"Oh no," said Anscom. "There was just a lot of blood."

"Did he see you kill his friends?" Beckett heard Stretton say.

"Sir," said Chatham in warning.

Heightmeyer was white and she put her hand on Beckett's shoulder. She said, "You need to stop."

"I want to know if Dr McKay saw them murder his friends," said Stretton. The policeman's face was stone.

Beckett was in a wind tunnel; it was just him watching Anscom.

"No, Anscom said scornfully. "We wanted him to cooperate. You're not very nice to me; you should be nicer if you want my help. I don't like you."

"What did you tell him?" Stretton said.

"We'd feed all his friends to the Wraith," said Anscom gleefully. "It was funny, funny, funny. You should get fed to a Wraith. That would be funny, too. Funny, funny, funny."

He got off the bed, pulling out the drip, and started dancing around the room-a rabbity little creature dancing, chanting funny, funny, funny. Funny, funny, funny, funny, funny, funny. So funny.

Heightmeyer put her hand over her mouth; she looked as though she was about to throw up. Beckett heard Sheppard say, "I don't give a fuck; I'm going to … to …" He couldn't get the word out.

Anscom reached out as he brushed part Stretton. You didn't search him, said the conga line in sorrow, you said he wasn't a threat. Beckett opened the desk drawer. He wasn't fast enough. It wasn't like someone being shot by a Wraith stunner. The sound from the wind tunnel coalesced into a scream in Beckett's head and with one brutal movement Anscom sliced the policeman's neck with a knife.

Stretton fell backwards clutching his throat; blood went everywhere. Chatham screamed and caught him, falling to the ground with his greater weight. Beckett heard Sheppard shouting into his radio.

Anscom didn't have time to laugh though the delighted smile on his face said more than any psychology report ever could. Beckett could hear the gunshot clearly, ringing like crystal clear bell; his hand felt like a dead weight. Anscom's head jerked backwards and the back of it exploded onto the wall and as Sheppard came running into the room, Beckett turned and calmly held out his gun.

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_No idea what degrees are called in the US but BA (Hons) is a Bachelor of Arts Honours degree. One level up from a normal undergraduate degree._

_Good thieftaker is indeed a great compliment for a British police officer. It simply means that someone is good at catching criminals. And tut, tut, Mr Stretton, sometimes it does pay to listen to psychologists._

_Next: They go get Rodney._


	18. Chapter 18

_In which we discover what home means ... snuffle_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 18**

Carson Beckett sat in a chair in a corner of the mess hall and contemplated. He thought about height: how a particular combination of two men's different heights could mean so much. He thought about strength: how nervous exhaustion could mean a punch lacked real impact despite how brutal it looked. He thought about luck: how a millimeter's difference between where a knife sliced a neck and where it finished meant the difference between life and death. He sat in a chair and watched an American Air Force officer drinking bad Czech beer with an English policeman.

A movement from the doorway heralded the arrival of Elizabeth Weir. She looked across at Cameron Stretton slumped in a chair, his long legs stretched out, a bottle of beer dangling from his hand. Every now and again he took a drink, clearly wincing-at the taste or at the slice on his neck, Beckett wasn't sure. Sheppard sat backwards in his chair, also slumped, his head learning against the balcony rail, the beer clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

Weir said softly, "Ladon called. He's coming over."

Beckett said in dismayed tones, "I don't have to be there, do I?"

"I want you there, Carson," said Weir giving no reason. "Besides, I need you in case ..." She indicated Stretton. "I mean, should he be drinking?"

"I said he should stay in the infirmary; he lost a fair whack of blood. By rights he should be laid up in bed for a few days but he said that he didn't have time to lie around and act all helpless," responded Beckett. "Colonel Sheppard promised him beer and helped him escape. He palmed the painkillers I gave him. I found them on the bedside table."

"Remind you of anyone?" Weir said wryly.

They both glared fondly at Sheppard.

Beckett said, "He was very lucky. If Anscom was taller or he shorter ..."

"Kate Heightmeyer is very upset," answered Weir obliquely.

"So was DI Chatham. She bellowed a 'You never listen' lecture at him," said Beckett. "He seemed to just shrug it off until she said that she didn't want to have to explain how stupid he was to his wife. That got a reaction."

"What sort?" asked Weir. "Maybe he'd stay here to avoid the consequences."

Beckett blinked. "That sounds like you want him to stay. I thought you didn't like him."

"I don't and then I do," she said sounding a little frustrated. "I'm just wondering if we should have people here on a permanent basis who have investigative skills. We didn't even think to look outside the area where the away team were."

"Are you going to ask him?" Beckett wanted to know.

She gave him a sideways glance. "Think I should?"

"They wouldn't consent to being under your authority, Elizabeth," said Beckett. "The police have to be independent."

"Hmmm," said Weir. "It's worth discussing with General O'Neill anyway."

"Um, does Ladon know Anscom is dead?" Beckett asked.

"Yes," said Weir. "I told him."

"Oh," said Beckett. "What did you say?"

"I said that Anscom went crazy and tried to slice someone's throat," said Weir innocently. "I was a little blunt."

"Oh," said Beckett again. "He went white."

"Who?" asked Weir looking mystified at the non sequitur.

"Mr Stretton," said Beckett. "When DI Chatham said she didn't want to explain his stupidity to his wife, he went white, as though he didn't like being reminded."

Weir looked interested and went out on the balcony. Neither man looked up from his drink.

"Dr Beckett tells me that you escaped from the infirmary, Mr Stretton," she said.

"Ah, but my jailer is keeping an eye on me, Dr Weir," said Stretton. He raised his bottle towards Beckett.

"Are you drunk?" Weir inquired.

"I would be were it not quite so hard to swallow," said Stretton. He looked slightly manic. "And talk," he added. "Still on my first one."

"Perhaps you'll listen to psychologists more often," suggested Weir, a glint in her eye.

"Perhaps I will," agreed Stretton amiably.

"You lost a lot of blood, Carson tells me. He doesn't think you should be out of bed," she said.

He shrugged and clearly immediately regretted it. He went pale and bit his lip. "And yet here I am, up and about-so to speak," he managed a little stubbornly.

"Ladon is coming to Atlantis," she said. "I let him know what happened when he called."

"Ah bless," said Stretton.

In fact, he sounded far too amiable for Beckett's liking and for Weir's, if her hesitation was any indication.

"I would like your advice on something, Mr Stretton," she said.

Sheppard raised his head, looked at her, and put his forehead back on the railing. Stretton nodded, took another sip of his beer, winced again on swallowing and shut his eyes for a moment.

"I think we need police officers here on a permanent basis," she said. "What do you think?"

"Why?" he asked. "You don't have any laws to enforce."

"For investigations," she said. "We would still think that Rodney was dead and that the away team were all taken by the Wraith were it not for your team."

"You don't need police officers for that, Dr Weir," Stretton said. "You just need to think outside the box."

"We do," she said a little indignantly.

"Not always. You're not especially suspicious in your dealings with people," Stretton pointed out. "You're far too trusting with the Genii, for instance, a people who have crossed, doublecrossed and triplecrossed you. Why are you so surprised when it happens time after time?"

"Which is why we need you," argued Weir.

Stretton gave a short laugh which turned into a cough. He put his hand to his neck and Beckett could see Stretton's hand shake in reaction from where he sat.

"I take it you don't actually mean me?" Stretton clarified, his voice a little hoarse.

"Well, why not? Would you stay?" Weir asked. "If you could."

Sheppard's head lifted again. He narrowed his eyes at Weir in surprise as though what she had asked was completely unexpected, though Beckett suspected, not entirely displeasing. He watched Stretton who looked down and was fiddling with the beer bottle's label. Beckett could never find out what the label said; Beckett suspected it was some sort of Czech in-joke. When Stretton finally looked up Beckett could see the drained exhaustion written across his face.

"Is this your home?" he asked. He included Sheppard in the wave of his beer bottle.

"It has become a home," acknowledged Weir. Sheppard nodded as well rather awkwardly as though he didn't want to admit it.

Stretton said quietly, "Mine is arguing with my wife over dinner about some stupid point of law, with my kids saying that normal families watch telly instead of having to listen to their parents use words that aren't in dictionaries. It's with my oldest daughter complaining that all her friends are allowed to have a tattoo and that she completely and utterly needs a mobile phone that plays videos. It's my middle daughter saying that if only her dad wasn't so crap at football then maybe I could coach her team because they always lose. It's with my littlest, who thinks that I'm in Iraq and that the next time she sees me it'll be on some video getting my head cut off. God knows what she'll think when she sees this"-he indicated his neck-"I want to go home, Dr Weir. Your home, not mine. Mine is with my family."

Throughout Stretton's recitation, Beckett could see Weir's and Sheppard's faces. Weir looked sorrowful as though disguising a past hurt; Sheppard looked frozen, as though any emotion would break him. Beckett knew that Elizabeth had left someone behind-the Simon she had mentioned-and that it had all gone wrong the first time they went back to Earth. Sheppard never mentioned family or friends. Beckett had seen the photo in his quarters but had never asked who the man was or if the boy was Sheppard. In turn, Sheppard volunteered nothing. If he had a home on Earth, he had left and firmly shut the door behind him.

At the same time, Weir and Sheppard looked into the distance and Beckett hastily put his radio on.

"Ladon is here," said Weir to Stretton. "He's come by himself. No aides."

The manic light replaced the exhaustion on Stretton's face. "No one? Remarkable. Let's see what he's got to say for himself." He said to Sheppard, "Get someone to wake up Katie, please."

Weir stopped at Beckett's table. "Carson?"

"I'll be up shortly," said Beckett glumly. The last thing he wanted was to see any Genii at all but here he was, again doing his duty for queen and country. As he walked reluctantly up to the control room he met Tynan also on his way. Beckett nodded at him in greeting.

Tynan said, "Uh, thank you."

"For what?" asked Beckett even though he knew what Tynan meant.

"Taking care of the boss," said Tynan. "His missus is going to be furious. He is going to be all right, isn't he?" This was said more anxiously than Beckett expected.

"Yes, he was lucky," Beckett said. "You worry about what he thinks, don't you."

"What d'you mean?" said Tynan defensively.

"He didn't seem best pleased with you earlier and you weren't pleased that he wasn't happy."

"I told her ladyship that I'd take care of him," said Tynan. "I like keeping my word."

"DI Chatham?" asked Beckett a little puzzled.

Tynan shook his head. "His missus. She pulled me aside before we left and told me to take care of him."

"Got the guilts, have you?" Beckett asked slightly mockingly.

"It was worse when his girls said, 'You'll take care of our Daddy, won't you, Ben,'" said Tynan moodily. "Danny doesn't get that. Just me."

"They think you're in Iraq," said Beckett.

"No one said anything but they all came out to the airport to see him off like it was the last time they'd ever see him," said Tynan. "So okay, guilts if you like. After this little episode, even more so. And yeah, his good opinion opens doors in this job. I don't want to lose it."

Beckett wondered what he'd do if he lost Sheppard's good opinion. He could cope, probably, with losing Weir's but Sheppard ... The Colonel gave so little of himself away but when he did Beckett always felt absurdly grateful. It wasn't open doors Tynan meant, it was the same loyalty that Sheppard exuded.

By the time Beckett got to the conference room Ladon was sitting down. Across the table from him sat Weir and Sheppard. To Beckett's mind Ladon was looking a little unsettled at Sheppard's presence.

"I had no idea Anscom wasn't well," Ladon said as Beckett and Tynan came in. "He attacked someone?"

"Yes," Weir said looking sorrowful. "He nearly killed a visitor."

Ladon noticed Tynan-no longer looking like the rumpled scientist he'd played-and nodded. "Dr Tynan, I hope this won't put you off visiting us?"

"That still on, is it?" Tynan said. "I dunno if I'd feel safe if your scientific staff are all like that. Thought he was rat-arsed for a bit but no, just yer garden variety nutter."

"Rat-arsed?" muttered Sheppard to Beckett.

"Drunk," Beckett muttered back.

"I assure you that we will take very good care of you," Ladon said confidently.

As Tynan was about to respond his senior officers came in. He turned to Stretton and said with contempt, "Yonder chav's a bit of a tool, boss."

"I'm not sure what that means, Dr Tynan," said Ladon his affability slipping at Tynan's tone. "I wouldn't have sent Anscom if I'd known he was unwell."

"Perhaps you'd feel safer if a security detail checked out the place first, 'Dr' Tynan," suggested Chatham.

"I don't think that's necessary," said Ladon hastily.

"What do you think, Mr Stretton," Weir said smoothly.

Stretton gazed at Ladon whose eyes moved to the bandage on the policeman's neck. Ladon shifted in his chair as Stretton said nothing.

Ladon swallowed and said, "You were the one that Anscom attacked." Stretton still said nothing. Ladon looked unnerved under that icy blue gaze and continued, "I apologize on behalf of the Genii people."

"Mr Stretton?" Weir asked to get his attention.

"I'm sorry, Dr Weir," said Stretton sitting down. "Just had a bit of a light bulb moment."

"About what?" asked Sheppard with a glance at Ladon.

"Doesn't matter," said Stretton. He sat down. "Thank you, uh, Ladon, is it?" The Genii leader nodded. "Anscom seemed a bit distressed."

"Did he say why?" asked Ladon looking concerned. "He was one of our top scientists and it's very upsetting to have lost him. How did he die, by the way?"

"He was shot," said Stretton. "After he tried to kill me."

"You didn't," Ladon paused as though feeling his way. "I'm sorry, you didn't ... uh ..."

"Provoke him?" suggested Tynan mildly.

"I didn't want to suggest ..." Ladon's voice trailed off.

"He seemed to find it all a bit funny," said Stretton.

"Funny?" asked Ladon looking bewildered.

"Amusing," said Stretton. "He thought I ought to be nicer to him. And he thought it would be funny if I were fed to a Wraith."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say," said Ladon looking sickened.

"He had an odd value system," Stretton mused.

"Yes," said Chatham. "I thought what he said about people being valueless and feeding them to the Wraith was rather strange. Almost as though he had one on tap for feeding people he disliked to."

"What people?" asked Ladon not reacting to Chatham's last statement.

"Us, apparently," said Sheppard. "Feeding enemies to the Wraith, I think he said."

"You're not our enemies," said Ladon immediately.

"Except for those of value," said Stretton. "He didn't want to feed valuable people to the Wraith. Didn't seem to mind murdering lots of other people in various ways, though, did he, Colonel."

"No," said Sheppard.

"Seemed quite keen," put in Chatham.

Ladon shook his head. "As I said, I wouldn't have sent him if I'd realized he was ... uh ..."

"Crazy," Sheppard suggested.

"So," said Stretton changing the subject, "We're a bit concerned about our 'Dr' Tynan visiting without security so we'll check things out first."

"I promise, that is not necessary," insisted Ladon.

"We want to check out the labs," said Stretton. "The uh, what was it called?"

"The atomic weapons development laboratory," said Chatham.

"Yes, sorry, having my neck sliced open seems to have affected my memory," said Stretton with faint sarcasm. He turned to Weir. "May I have a quick word outside, Dr Weir? Colonel? Dr Beckett?" He stood and said to Ladon, "Excuse us for a moment."

They went outside and Stretton said, "He knows."

"About what?" asked Weir.

"McKay," said Stretton. "I don't know to what extent but he knows."

"Where did you get that from?" asked Sheppard. "He hasn't said anything."

Stretton shrugged then put his hand to his throat. "Twenty-three years of dealing with liars; I know one when I see one."

"Can you smell the guilt on him?" Sheppard asked amusement clashing with belief.

"He shrieks guilt," said Stretton. "He said he sent Anscom here. He did. Anscom worked for Prenum so why is _Ladon_ sending him here? He's found out in between his last visit and this one."

"Maybe Prenum was busy," said Weir. "You said that Rodney had caused problems and that was why Prenum stayed behind."

Stretton shook his head. "Maybe not, now that Ladon says he sent Anscom. I want to find out what Ladon knows. He's a politician; he's being careful."

"He was a scientist-and a soldier," reminded Sheppard. "The Genii leaders are soldier and politician. I think that was Kolya's problem-no political skills." Sheppard looked back into the room. "Why don't we just confront him?"

"Think he'll admit it?" asked Beckett. "He's a wily man. He still seems very keen for Tynan to go."

"Yes," said Stretton. "Which makes me think that Ladon intends to use Ben as a bargaining chip if he can."

"The enemy of my enemy," said Weir. "He and Prenum don't like each other and if Prenum is making a bid for power ..."

"Then foreign backers will do in a pinch," said Stretton. "Very CIA of you, Dr Weir."

"Thank you, Mr Stretton," said Weir accepting the surface compliment.

They went back in. Ladon was looking discomforted. Tynan and Chatham were giving him the silent treatment.

Stretton said, "Why did you send Anscom?"

"What?" said Ladon.

"I got stabbed by the man, Ladon," said Stretton in a reasonable voice. "I want to know why you sent him."

"Prenum was busy," said Ladon.

"Why didn't Prenum send someone?" asked Chatham. "Didn't Anscom work for Prenum?"

"I felt that Anscom would be able to help," said Ladon.

"Help?" said Tynan. "In what way?"

"He'd be able to speak to you Dr Tynan, scientist to scientist," said Ladon. He looked a bit rattled.

"I'm not a scientist," said Tynan after getting a nod from Stretton.

"You work with atomic weapons," Ladon said.

"Not me, mate," said Tynan. "Wouldn't touch 'em with a 40 foot barge pole. Closest I've got to nukes is arresting a couple of peaceniks at Greenham Common."

Ladon stared at Tynan and then around the table. "I don't ... I don't understand."

"Ben works for me," said Stretton. "And I'd like to know something."

"What?" said Ladon blusteringly. "Dr Weir, I don't like these questions. Who _are_ you?" he said to Stretton.

"Too bad," said Sheppard.

"I'm a policeman," said Stretton. "And I _ask_ questions for a living. I'd like to know when you found out that Prenum was keeping Dr McKay hostage in your atomic weapons development lab."

Ladon paled and tried, "I didn't, I don't."

He scrambled to his feet. He shot a look at Sheppard who had that dangerously blank, shuttered soldier's look on his face. Beckett's conga line, quiet for a long while, said softly, oh dear. Beckett looked at Stretton and back at Sheppard.

"We know," said Stretton softly. "We know. Please sit down, Ladon." The Genii leader shook his head. "Ben, have Ladon sit down."

Tynan very casually pulled out a gun and pointed it at Ladon's head. "Mr Stretton told you to sit, sunshine."

"You're not going to kill me," said Ladon. "You're bluffing. Dr Weir!"

Stretton got up and moved around the table. He got into Ladon's personal space until the Genii backed up against the wall. He took Tynan's gun, still pointing it at Ladon's head, then he lowered it, slowly going down Ladon's body. He stopped at Ladon's groin, smiled an unfunny smile, and moved the gun down to behind Ladon's knee. Hatchet man, whimpered the conga line. Beckett was curiously unmoved by Ladon's look of panic. His head had been suspiciously clear since he shot Anscom. Deep down he was worried about that.

"You wouldn't have heard of Northern Ireland, would you, Ladon?" Stretton mused. "Nice little place. I learnt kneecapping off the best. All it takes is one bullet just here."

Weir looked horrified and bit her hand to stop herself from saying anything. Sheppard's expression hadn't changed. Stretton pulled the trigger and the resulting explosion made everyone but Sheppard jump. The bullet ricocheted off the wall. Beckett, Weir and the two other police officers flinched and ducked. Sheppard didn't move. Ladon stumbled away, his knee still intact.

"Oops, missed," said Stretton mockingly. Toecutter, wailed the conga line. "You tell me what I want to know and you stay intact. You don't, I give you to him." He indicated Sheppard and said in a soft voice, "And you know what he's like." Sheppard smiled a terribly polite smile. "So, I suggest you work with me, Ladon. When did you find out that Dr McKay was in your weapons lab?"

Ladon gave an involuntary glance at Sheppard, still smiling that terrible smile. He moved onto Weir who gave him a nod.

She said, "Ladon, is Prenum making a bid for power?" He was mute. "You came here by yourself. I think that shows a certain level of trust. Obviously, we would prefer you rather than Prenum as Genii leader. We have a saying, you scratch our back, we'll scratch yours."

"What guarantees do I have?" Ladon challenged, his confidence returning as the game was put onto a political level.

"None," said Stretton and Sheppard together.

"Where is Rodney, Ladon?" said Weir. "We don't scratch your back until we get Rodney."

Ladon looked around the room, sighed, and sat down next to Weir as though she would protect him.

"I was told about unauthorized building in the labs," he admitted. "I didn't know about Prenum kidnapping Dr McKay, Dr Weir. You have to believe me. I thought that he'd been taken by the Wraith. You said so yourself."

"What was the unauthorized building?" asked Chatham.

"I went down there. Anscom was there working. I don't know where Dr McKay was," said Ladon. "There was a cell in the lab. I recognized the Atlantis clothing and I questioned Anscom. He was very scared. Prenum's like that; he likes scaring people. He has a lot of influence but he never seemed to want power. Not before. I threatened Anscom about the clothing and he said they'd taken a prisoner. I figured out who it was. They'd made a lot of positive developments in the past few weeks."

"I bet Genii staff meetings are fun," said Sheppard flatly, his face indicating that he didn't find it at all comical. "And when were you going to tell us?"

"I sent Anscom because I thought ..." Ladon stopped. "I thought since I got the information out of him so easily, you wouldn't have any trouble."

"No," said Stretton dryly. "No trouble at all."

Ladon's eyes drifted to his throat. "I couldn't be seen to just hand over information or give Dr McKay back to you. Prenum has a lot of supporters."

"No, heaven forbid that you should do the right thing," Weir said snappily. "What about the rest of our team?"

"Dr McKay is the only Atlantean we have, I'm sure," said Ladon.

"Because the rest were murdered," said Stretton. Ladon looked dismayed and then with another look at Sheppard, scared. Stretton stood, swaying a little. Beckett watched him carefully. "Come with me."

"Where?" said Ladon warily.

"Ben, tell Danny and Ade to meet us in the morgue," said Stretton. "I think it would be helpful if Ladon saw the results of Prenum's power play."

"What about?" Sheppard started, tapping the palm of his hand asking about the Wraith.

"Morgue first," said Stretton.

Sheppard stopped Stretton as they made their way to the morgue, "You didn't really learn kneecapping in Northern Ireland, did you?"

"Very educational place," said Stretton.

"You're scary," Sheppard observed admiringly not entirely joking.

"Ladon's not scared of me, Colonel," Stretton said. "He's scared of you."

"Would you have done it?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"Yes," said Stretton simply and walked on.

Sheppard followed after a moment.

Breen and Barker were standing at the morgue door, flanked by Teyla and Ronon. They opened it and ushered their visitors in. The lights came on as Sheppard entered. All the bodies were laid out in rows. Beckett didn't know what the room had originally been used for but it served well as the Atlantis morgue. It was large and refrigerated. McKay had refused to enter the room after the first time they'd used it and said that he had no idea what the power source was and had no intention of finding out; it should have used ZPM power but wasn't connected. It remained at the same low, even temperature no matter what the power problems in the city were.

"Introduce Ladon to the Atlantis team, Danny," said Stretton.

He leaned against the door, looking ill and on the verge of collapse. Running on sheer nerves, suggested the conga line to Beckett. His inner doctor popped up and tsked Beckett for not taking better care of him. His mother said that he should respect the police for doing such a hard job. Beckett told them all to be quiet. Carson! said his mother. Sorry mum, Beckett thought at her.

By the time they got to body number 14, Ladon had had enough. Breen pulled back each cover, said the Atlantean's name, his or her job, and listed in detail how they died. Sheppard was prowling around the edges of the room.

"What have your tests shown, Danny?" asked Chatham.

"They're not conclusive as yet," said Breen. "But the preliminary results indicate that at least thirteen of the Atlantis personnel have Anscom's DNA on them. Anscom had gunshot residue on his clothing which match the powder on some of the bodies. Quite a few of the other bodies have Prenum's DNA. We got samples from the drinks and food Prenum ate at lunch. Your scientists personally murdered some of these people, Ladon."

"I didn't know about this, Dr Weir," Ladon insisted understanding the intent if not the detail.

"Do we believe him?" Sheppard appealed to Stretton.

"I'm all for just shooting him in the head," said Ronon. Teyla folded her arms and nodded in agreement.

"We do that, we don't get McKay back," said Chatham. "And he's going to help us get Dr McKay back, aren't you Ladon."

"I'll try," said Ladon. "What do I get in return?"

"Your knees?" asked Sheppard.

"You can do what you like to me, Colonel," said Ladon. "But if you don't want Prenum as Genii leader, you're going to have to trade."

"This galaxy's currency," said Stretton. "How would you like something free of charge? Aside from your knees."

"Such as?" Ladon asked. "It needs to be worth the risk I'm going to take."

"How do you think that they kidnapped Dr McKay and murdered all these people without much of a fight?" Stretton asked Ladon who shook his head. "The Atlanteans thought they'd been taken by the Wraith. Remember? At lunch?"

"I thought you'd made that up," said Ladon.

"Got that tape, Danny?" asked Chatham.

Breen held out the computer notepad. Beckett couldn't see it from where he stood between the bodies and Stretton but he could hear it. What about the Wraith dart? he heard Stretton ask and Anscom's reedy voice reply, one crashed during the last culling. Prenum feeds it and it does what it's told. The whole conversation was repeated. Sheppard put his hands behind his back and leant up against the wall. We should have kept the Atlanteans, of course, Anscom's voice said. Why, he heard Chatham ask. For the Wraith, of course. Better to feed it enemies.

"Ladon," Sheppard said, "Prenum is feeding your people to a Wraith."

Ladon looked dumbly at the notepad. In the background Beckett heard Anscom's voice saying funny, funny, funny. He heard Chatham's scream and the gunshot. His head buzzed, no longer clear. He shut his eyes and opened them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stretton was standing next to him, a look of understanding on his face.

"So," Stretton said. "I think we have a mutual interest here, Ladon. We want to get Prenum for this"-he waved his hand at the room-"and you might want to stop him feeding your people to his pet Wraith."

Ladon slumped and he nodded in agreement.

"Good," said Stretton. "Why don't we go back up to the conference room and discuss the finer points."

Sheppard took Ladon by the arm and led him out of the room. Stretton waited until he and Beckett were alone.

"Are you all right, Dr Beckett?" he asked, his kindly persona back in place.

"No," said Beckett. "You?"

"No," said Stretton wearily. "Better than dead, though."

"I didn't search Anscom," Beckett felt compelled to say.

"No one thought to search him, Doctor," said Stretton. "We're police officers. Suspect searches are ingrained from the get go and _we_ didn't think to search him. Stop beating yourself up over it."

"You need to rest before we go anywhere," said Beckett. "I'll stop beating myself up if you rest."

"Agreed," Stretton said.

Beckett had somehow expected a fight but even when he insisted on painkillers and sleeping tablets, Stretton didn't resist. He didn't even palm them. He swallowed everything he was handed under Beckett's watchful eye, all the time giving instructions to his team about their obbo to the Genii homeworld. Finally, he allowed Beckett to change the bandage on his neck, the angry-looking wound snaking down from his chin to his collarbone. He crashed a little time later. When Sheppard arrived, Beckett firmly turned him away, directing him to Chatham.

"Is he going to be okay?" Sheppard asked, peering at the sleeping police officer.

"If he's left alone to rest," scolded Beckett. "Go away, Colonel."

Weir came in after Sheppard and was shooed away as well. Beckett fell asleep at his desk and woke to find Stretton gone and when he got there, the gateroom full of activity. The police were wearing their "combat" gear as Lorne dubbed it. Stretton and Sheppard were talking quietly; Beckett eyed both of them. Tynan was checking his equipment and hauled it up on his shoulder. He followed Sheppard as the Colonel headed for the jumper bay. Cadman, Lorne and a few marines stood waiting.

Breen was alone and Beckett said, "Where's your sidekick?"

"Ade won't be coming," Breen said. "He's not an AFO and the boss won't take the risk."

"He does take a few risks, though," observed Beckett.

Breen shrugged a little. "Good thieftakers normally do. Won't want to be in his shoes when his missus sees that cut on his neck."

"Was he really in Northern Ireland?" asked Beckett.

"You can learn a lot about terrorism in Northern Ireland," was all Breen would say.

Weir came down the stairs. She looked anxious. "Carson, be safe. Take care of Rodney and bring him home," she said. "Mr Stretton, be careful. DI Chatham tells me that your children are ferocious and I'd rather not meet them if anything happens to you."

Stretton gave her a brilliant smile in response. "That they are, Dr Weir. We'll bring Dr McKay back. I need to ask him about Dr Grodin."

She smiled back at him. "I'd almost forgotten why you were here. Good luck."

They were met on the other side by Ladon and one of his security teams. Beckett looked back as they walked away from the gate and briefly saw the jumper before it cloaked. Sheppard had protested about not being included in the ground team but Weir and Stretton, for once united, had overruled him.

"Where is Colonel Sheppard?" Ladon asked.

"Elsewhere," said Stretton, just as he had when Teyla had asked where Tynan was.

"He's here?" Ladon looked around.

"Understand me very clearly, Ladon," said Stretton very softly. "If you try anything at all, if this goes even remotely pearshaped-if it goes wrong-Colonel Sheppard will put bombs down every hole he can find. You won't have to worry about the Wraith ever again. Do you understand?"

Ladon looked at Stretton with hatred. "I understand," he said. "I want you to take Dr McKay and go."

"And Prenum," said Stretton. "Colonel Sheppard wants a word."

"Prenum is ours to deal with," said Ladon. "He has murdered his own people."

"_If _Colonel Sheppard is feeling generous, he might give Prenum back," said Stretton. "Depends how he feels after he sees McKay. He was quite insistent."

Ladon said nothing more but looked angry. To some extent Beckett didn't blame him. Ladon wasn't Cowan. He was a jumped up scientist who was supposed to hand over the reins to Kolya and didn't. He had to feel under threat on the home front and having the Atlanteans as allies wasn't turning out for the best. Sheppard had described Beckett as a dichotomy but he didn't have Sheppard's on/off switch. Most of the time Sheppard was laid back, almost lazy, but when he turned soldier, he played the role to the hilt. Beckett could have felt sorry for Prenum if he had any sympathy left. He was all out and there weren't any sympathy shops around for him to buy some more.

They climbed down into the Genii bunker. The air was dank and had an almost metallic taste to it. Ladon ordered his men to clear the corridor. They went ahead and Beckett could hear muffled thuds and cries. Stretton glanced at Ladon as they waited but said nothing.

Beckett moved over to him and whispered, "Is Colonel Sheppard really going to bomb the Genii bunkers?"

Stretton leaned over and murmured back, "I might have forgotten to mention it to him. I've become very forgetful of late."

"And Prenum," asked Beckett as Ladon paced impatiently.

"Ah, that one he did say something about," said Stretton. "He was very insistent on having a chat."

"Will you hand him over?" asked Beckett.

"If I have to," said Stretton. His face looked shadowed. "I knew this would have a military solution. Prenum goes to Sheppard if I can't help it otherwise."

Ladon turned. "It's clear."

"That was easy," muttered Breen to his boss.

"Keep an eye out," said Stretton. "Far too easy."

They walked swiftly down the corridor, the police moving as though they'd had more stealth training than the marines with them. Lorne was at the front, Cadman following, the police in the middle. Beckett was behind them, six marines watching his back. They reached a door and Stretton nodded at the Genii to open it. The marines hung back-under Stretton's orders, much to Lorne and Cadman's dismay. The police spilled in as an argument was taking place.

"Look, I told you that a sonic screwdriver isn't something that can be built out of spare parts," came Rodney McKay's voice angrily. "I have no idea what this Dr Tynan told you or if you've even understood it properly. I've never even heard of the guy. It's an advanced tool. Are you always this stupid?"

"Be careful, Dr McKay," Beckett heard Prenum's voice. Cold and unfeeling. "Do you want your teammates to be my friend's next meal? Perhaps I could get you to watch."

"That might be a little difficult," said Stretton equally coldly. "Wouldn't it, Prenum."

"Who are you?" Prenum turned to them and started when he saw Ladon but recovered with the arrogance of the born amoralist. "Ladon, who are these people?"

Ladon was staring at McKay and didn't answer.

"I said, _who are you_?" Prenum demanded.

McKay looked confused. He was wearing a metallic collar. Beckett could see the angry red marks where it had rubbed against his neck. McKay hadn't noticed Beckett standing at the door. He pushed his way in.

"Carson?" said McKay. "Carson! Well, it's about time!"

_TBC ..._

_Notes:_

_Rat-arsed: as Carson explains, it means drunk._

_Nutter: crazy._

_Chav: someone who wears brand name sports clothes and lots of tasteless bling jewellery._

_Tool: I think this one is fairly universal but just in case, a tool is a stupid person and to be treated with contempt._

_Greenham Common: RAF Greenham Common, an airbase which was the site of a 19 year anti-nuclear protest peopled mainly by women._

_AFO: Authorised Firearms Officer. As previously mentioned only certain numbers of British police officers carry a gun._

_I asked how best to slice someone's neck without it actually killing him and got a long explanation about how to miss veins, vertical cuts, and height making all the difference. Thank god I made Stretton tall and Anscom short, eh?_

_Next: they have to get out of the place yet._


	19. Chapter 19

_In which the kind reader is invited to pick The West Wing reference ..._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 19**

Even Carson Beckett had to admit, as much as Rodney McKay was his friend, as much as he liked him, he could-at times-be a little annoying. McKay had thrown himself at Beckett and as Lorne came in, had thrown himself at the Major, too, much to his obvious discomfort. All the time he'd kept up a litany of complaints about how stupid everyone was not to realize that the Genii had kidnapped him, that they'd quite thoroughly mistreated him, and worse, how long it took for the rescue party to arrive. Beckett had thought nothing could faze Stretton but the dumbfounded look on the policeman's face at McKay's verbal stream said either he was thinking up ways of killing McKay-or himself. Beckett wasn't sure.

"Right," said McKay finally winding down. "Get this thing off me." He fingered the collar.

"How does it come off?" questioned Stretton, finally getting a word in. Prenum was silent; he folded his arms in defiance. "Fine, how does it come off?" Stretton asked McKay.

"You're asking me?" squeaked McKay annoyed. "I'm wearing the damn thing! Who the hell are you? Where's Sheppard? He's supposed to be riding to my rescue not … not … You're English!"

"In order," said Stretton. "First, I'm asking you because you're wearing it and everyone keeps telling me you're clever. Second, Cameron Stretton, Greater Manchester Police. Third, Sheppard is busy. Fourth, yes, I'm English."

"Busy? He's busy?" howled McKay at the top of his voice. "All the times I've saved his scrawny butt and he's too busy? That's … that's …" His voice trailed off and he stared at Stretton, clearly upset.

"Rodney," said Beckett soothingly. McKay didn't respond and Beckett said loudly, "Rodney!" McKay jumped. "Colonel Sheppard is just not here _right now_. Mr Stretton and his team are here to get you out."

"Stre … Police? You're a policeman? Sheppard sent some bobby to get me out?" McKay looked like he was going to burst into tears.

"Terribly sorry," said Stretton politely. "I'm certainly happy to get you out of here since I came to Pegasus to talk to you but first," he emphasised, "I want to make sure your head won't fall off, what with that thing around your neck. Prenum doesn't seem inclined to help."

"Can I gag him?" Beckett heard Breen ask Lorne quietly.

"Already tried that," muttered back Lorne.

"Where's the Wraith, Prenum?" interrupted Ladon. "You fed our own people to a Wraith? You will be …"

"Punished?" sneered Prenum, to Beckett's critical mind a little overdramatically. If he had a mustache he'd have twirled it. "They helped our people by their deaths."

"People of no value," said Chatham. "That's where Anscom got it from."

"He has a control thing," sniffed McKay. "What do you mean you came to speak to me?"

"Danny, search Prenum-carefully," ordered Stretton. "Major Lorne, if you'd be kind enough to hold him? Lt Cadman," he called, "perhaps you'd like to try your new trick?"

Cadman bounced in and gave the flabbergasted McKay a hug, "Hey Rodney," she said. "Good to see you. Watch this." She grabbed Prenum's hand and pressed down hard. He shrieked. "Wuss," she said. Lorne held his collar while Breen patted him down.

"Clean, boss," said Breen. "No sign of any control switch for that thing."

"Where is it?" said Stretton.

Prenum said nothing. He looked completely unafraid though he shot Cadman-now patting McKay on the arm-something of a wary glance.

"Fine," said Stretton again. "Dr McKay, what does this control device look like?"

"It … it … it looks like a control device! It has buttons on it," snapped McKay. He sat down very suddenly. "Are you rescuing me or not?"

"That's the plan," said Chatham. "As long as we can work out how to get that thing off your neck."

"What about the rest of the team?" asked McKay. He was starting to shake. Beckett handed McKay a power bar and the scientist fell on it as though starving. "He was threatening to feed them to a Wraith. Did you know he has a Wraith? I could hear the screams and he said if I didn't cooperate he was going to feed them to him. Did Radek make it through the gate? I pushed him but I got stunned."

Everyone glanced at each other and Stretton silently queried Beckett on whether to tell McKay about the away team now. Beckett looked over McKay and at Prenum who lifted his chin unconcernedly. Beckett gave the policeman a doubtful up-to-you look. Stretton made a better-if-it-comes-from-you sign.

"Radek made it through, Rodney," said Beckett tactfully.

"Good, good," said McKay. "What are you doing?"

This was addressed to the police who were searching the lab. Unlike every cop show Beckett had watched, they were neat and put everything back where they found it.

"Looking for that control device," said Chatham briefly. "What's this?" She held up what looked like a weapon of some sort. "Sonic screwdriver?"

"Nah," said Breen. He pulled out something from his pocket. "This is a sonic screwdriver."

Prenum's eyes lit up and he took a step towards Breen. At once, the police officers snapped up their guns and pointed them at him. Belatedly, Lorne and Cadman did the same. Prenum froze and looked back at Ladon who folded his arms-no help there.

"You're a fuckwit, mate," said Breen mildly to Prenum. "Here you go, Dr McKay. Straight from the Atlantis BBC Shop."

He tossed it to McKay who caught it and pressed the button. The blue light came on and McKay started laughing, first quietly, then harder, almost hysterically. Beckett started patting him on the back.

"You're safe now, Rodney," he said. "You're safe."

"I'm not," hiccupped McKay. "None of us are until we get off this planet. He's got people everywhere."

"Dr McKay?" Stretton crouched beside McKay who was shaking uncontrollably. "We have him." He pointed at Prenum. "Don't forget that."

"You're a policeman?" asked McKay almost tearfully.

"Yes," said Stretton. "Dr Weir and Colonel Sheppard asked us to help find you."

"Good job," said McKay nodding emphatically.

"Thank you," Stretton replied gravely. "Do you know how that collar thing works?"

"Anscom made it. You wouldn't have met him-crazy bastard," started McKay. He started rattling on about Anscom, Prenum, the collar, the Wraith. It was just his nervousness but Beckett could see Stretton tuning it out.

Finally, the policeman put his hand over McKay's mouth. "Topic, Dr McKay," he said gently. "Don't worry about Anscom, okay? Anscom's dead."

"He is?" asked McKay calming down. "Good."

"Dr McKay," Stretton prompted.

"Collar, right," said McKay. "It has some remote sensor attached to it. If it goes outside a certain radius of the control switch it detonates. Right out of a bad science fiction program-in fact, I think it _was_ in a science fiction program." He paused to think. "Could have been in _The Tomorrow People_. Original, of course, not that new one."

"_Tomorrow People_ was a kiddies program, Doc," said Breen, rummaging through a cabinet. "Don't think something like that would have been on it. Sounds more like _Farscape_."

"I appreciate you sharing your sci-fi geek status with us, Danny, but shut up," hinted Stretton. "How far would the radius be, Dr McKay?"

"I don't know," said McKay in his normal, despairingly gloomy we're-doomed voice. "I'm never going to get out of here."

"You said the control device had buttons?" Chatham asked, her voice muffled, her head under a table. "Is one of them to detonate that thing manually?"

"Yes, crude but effective," McKay's head jerked at Prenum. "What, you didn't think I'd work it out? You really are stupid."

Prenum had backed up against a messy desk and leaned there, his hands moving behind his back. Stretton's eyes narrowed and he strode across to pull Prenum away from the desk and grabbing him by the hair, slammed his face down. Prenum shrieked as his nose smashed. Blood splattered out from his face and unconcerned, Stretton tossed him towards Breen.

Stretton said, "Danny, cuff that prick."

Beckett hadn't noticed before. Each police officer carried handcuffs attached to their utility belts, the plastic sort that tightened if someone tried to pull loose. Breen pulled the cuffs rigid and pushed Prenum over to Cadman and Lorne.

"Hold onto him," said Stretton to Lorne. "It's here somewhere."

Chatham and Breen started searching the desk carefully. McKay looked at Stretton in shock. He swallowed and said, "Just what sort of policeman are you?"

"The police brutality kind, Doctor," said Stretton briefly. "Ladon." He snapped his fingers at the Genii leader who looked in between panic and admiration. "Best way of getting out of here?"

Ladon said to Prenum, "Where are the rest of your guards?"

Prenum snorted out a laugh and much to Lorne and Cadman's disgust, blood and snot from the ruins of his nose. "Everywhere," he managed to get out.

"Boss?" Breen indicated a panel on the desk. "Communications, I reckon."

"Ladon?" queried Stretton.

Ladon nodded. "And it's on." He went across and switched it off.

"Way too easy," muttered Chatham. "Why can't we just be on our merry?"

"Then it wouldn't be any fun, puppydog," said Stretton resignedly. "Ladon, get your guards to check back the way we came."

Ladon said mutinously, "You have guards."

"Yes," said Stretton. "But I'd rather yours get shot than ours." Ladon's lips tightened and as he began to refuse, Stretton said, "Your knees are still negotiable." Prenum coughed out a laugh and Lorne belted him over the back of his head. He looked at Stretton in apology but Stretton only said, "Well done, Major."

Ladon walked to the door and spoke to the Genii guards who peeled off and headed back the way they'd come in. As they waited, Chatham and Breen continued to rummage through the desk. Stretton stalked around the rest of the lab impatiently looking through other desks and cupboards.

McKay watched him and whispered to Beckett, "Why are they here?"

"They were looking for you," Beckett whispered back.

"Elizabeth got in English bobbies to look for me?" asked McKay. "She couldn't have got the RCMP?"

Beckett quickly debated whether to tell an obviously fragile McKay about Peter Grodin. He said instead, "They came to Atlantis for something else and Elizabeth asked them to help."

"What could they possibly want in Atlantis?" McKay wanted to know. He sat up, "What aren't you telling me?"

Stretton glanced over at McKay's raised voice and said something to Chatham. She looked up from her search, considered McKay, and said something back. They conversed back and forth for a few moments and she flipped her hand up and down. Stretton walked over to McKay and Beckett.

"Dr McKay," he said. "You want to know why we came to Atlantis."

"You said you came to talk to me," said McKay almost sulkily. It was his nerves, Beckett knew, but Rodney McKay could do sulky like no one else.

"Not just you," Stretton said. His voice was even. "We came because of Peter Grodin."

"Well, you can't talk to Peter, he's dead," said McKay in his oh-look-another-stupid-person voice.

"We came because he's dead," said Stretton and waited for McKay's reaction.

"You came because he's … oh, wait wait wait," McKay jumped up excitedly, "I know this one." He waved his arms around. "It's that Princess Di thing."

"Death abroad," said Stretton his eyes following McKay's bouncing.

McKay slapped his hands together. "Yesssssssssss," he said. "Coroner's inquest."

"You've heard of that, Rodney," asked Beckett surprised.

McKay sat down and said nonchalantly, "I read the papers."

"You're a bloody royalist!" said Beckett deliberately overreacting to this unimportant tidbit to see just how worryingly far McKay had gone.

"Am not not not!" McKay's finger came up into Beckett's face.

Both of them looked up to find everyone in the room staring at them in surprise, including Prenum and Ladon. Stretton had backed off with a look of slight alarm on his face. He nodded towards McKay and Beckett and raised an eyebrow at Chatham. She mimed a head-on-desk motion, something that didn't go unnoticed by McKay.

"I want to go home," he announced.

"Me, too," sighed Stretton. He turned to Prenum. "I don't actually need you. Colonel Sheppard wants to talk to you but I don't think he'd mind if you were dead."

Prenum said nothing. The blood from his nose was beginning to congeal and his face was becoming swollen, black bruises appearing, his eyes puffing up. Ladon, too, was quiet. He kept glancing at the door waiting for his men to return.

"You can't do that," blurted out McKay startled. "Can he do that? You're a policeman; are you really a policeman? I bet you're not."

Stretton pulled something out of one of his pockets and tossed it to McKay who flinched away in reaction. Beckett reached down and picked it up. It was a small black folder. Inside was Stretton's warrant card. He handed it to McKay.

"Hah," said McKay crowed. "You lied. You said you were from Manchester. This says Metropolitan Police."

"They're on secondment, Rodney," said Beckett. He looked down at the card-at McKay's hands, McKay's bruised hands. "Show me your hands, Rodney." McKay flushed and stood up backing away from him. "Rodney …"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," said McKay in a panicky voice. "I just want to get out of here. I'm dying of radiation poisoning and I'd rather die in my own bed!"

"You're not dying of radiation poisoning, Rodney," said Beckett patiently, handing Stretton back his warrant card. "Let me look at you. You were injured, we knew that."

"Oh, no, no, no," said McKay. "You're not practicing your voodoo skills on me."

"Back off, Dr Beckett," said Chatham making a leave him alone gesture. "Dr McKay … _Dr McKay_, can you come here for a moment?"

"Why?" said McKay suspiciously.

"Because this looks like a control device," she said holding up a small box, not unlike the Genii radio transmitters, "and I'd rather press the button that releases the collar than the detonation one."

"Oh," said McKay relaxing a little. "Okay." He scurried over keeping an eye on Beckett. He started muttering to himself over the control box and Chatham directed Breen to help.

She came over to Beckett and said quietly, "He's been beaten-at the very least-and he doesn't want you to see it."

"I can't help him unless I do," said Beckett frustrated.

"He'll be better once we're out of here," she said. "He's mobile and despite the jitters, fairly steady on his feet. Prenum would have wanted him in one piece so he could work. Examine him back in your infirmary."

"Ladon," Stretton called from where he was looking over Breen's shoulder. "How long should your men have been?"

"They should have been back before now," said Ladon.

"Right, we're not waiting," said Stretton. "Work out how to get that thing off and work it out now," he directed McKay who spluttered. "Everyone keeps telling me you're a genius. Prove it."

"You've been talking to Sheppard," muttered McKay. "It's always, 'You can do anything, Rodney; you work best under pressure, Rodney; you always work things out at the last minute, Rodney; you're amazing, Rodney,' ying tong ying tong iddle I po."

"Never mentioned you," said Stretton sardonically. "Particularly the amazing bit."

"Oh okay, yes … What? Never?" McKay looked hurt, all the while his fingers working on the control box. "Skinny ingrate … ah." He pulled off the lid and his pleased expression changed to worried then relieved.

"Dr McKay?" asked Chatham.

"Nevermind," he said. "I didn't explode."

"Well, I'm always pleased when that doesn't happen," she said with a glance at Beckett.

"No, that's good," he whispered to her. "He's always like this."

"Always?" She gave McKay at doubtful glance. "Really?"

"Ladon," said Stretton. "Which way out?"

Ladon considered. "Not back the way we came. It's longer but if we circle back around the village that will get you closer to the stargate. I'll have some more troops meet us there."

"There's going to be too many people at the village," said Lorne. "Where else?"

"Outside of the lands we clear for food it's mostly forest with few clearings," said Ladon.

"One of those, which one?" said Lorne impatiently.

"We'd have to go through the forest to get anywhere near where Colonel Sheppard could meet you. I assume he has one of those jumpers," said Ladon.

"I don't like being blind," said Stretton. "Map. Find one or draw one and show me."

Ladon's resentful look indicated precisely what he thought of being ordered around but he did what he was told, drawing up a map. Lorne and Stretton huddled over it, clarifying where they were, where the gate was, where the village was and how long all of it would take. Neither of them looked happy.

"So where to?" Chatham asked.

"Clearing about 20 klicks from where we came in," said Lorne.

"You want me to walk 20 kilometers?" said McKay looking up from the control box. "You know I got injured, don't you."

Beckett opened his mouth. "Rodney, you should let me …"

Stretton cut him off tensely. "Dr McKay, you're mobile now, aren't you?" He didn't give McKay a chance to respond. "Good, hurry up."

Breen wandered over and said, changing the subject as if deflecting his boss's temper, "The Genii tech seems pretty basic-very 1950's Cold War. Just depends if shithead over there is a sneaky prick and has booby trapped it."

They turned to Prenum. At the same time McKay dropped the control box and yelped. It shattered. Nothing happened. Everyone in the room stared at McKay then back at Prenum, his eyes almost vanished under the swelling of his face. He was looking-if he could see properly, Beckett reasoned-down at the control box in pieces on the floor and was, if Beckett interpreted his expression under the bruising, completely chagrined.

Despite his head's increasing state of fuzziness, this one he got clearly. He muttered something rude under his breath and grabbing Prenum by the scruff of his neck, jerked him around to look into his eyes. Prenum snuffled wheezily and looked away. Beckett muttered again, strode across to McKay, staring down at the ground in frozen panic, and, in turn, grabbed him by his jacket's neck. McKay wriggled away.

"Hold still, Rodney" Beckett heard himself say from a distance. He examined the collar carefully but quickly; he fiddled a bit, and with a click it fell off.

McKay cringed away and barked, "What! Carson, are you crazy?" and as nothing happened, said, "Oh …"

"Right, thank you, Dr Beckett," Stretton said briskly, "Let's go."

McKay glared across at Prenum. "You … you …" he spluttered.

"Later, Doctor," directed Stretton. "Someone bring him"-he pointed at Prenum-"Don't let him go." To Ladon he said, "Which way?"

Lorne took point along with a couple of marines and Ladon-just in case any guards on the way decided to take pot shots, the Major suggested. Because it's better if I get shot? Ladon asked sarcastically. Well, said Lorne, I wasn't go to say anything but my Mom always told me to be nice. Breen took hold of Prenum and said viciously to the scientist that if he made things difficult along the way, they'd shoot him in the stomach and leave him to bleed out. Did Prenum understand? Prenum snuffled and wheezed in response but kept up the pace as much as the lack of sight from his swollen eyes allowed. McKay and Beckett were wedged between Chatham and Stretton. Cadman and the rest of the marines brought up the rear.

They made good time until just near the entrance and McKay stopped. Cadman stumbled into him and he hissed in pain.

"Come on, Rodney," said Beckett gently pulling his arm.

"No, wait," McKay said. "We have to go back."

"Why?" Chatham asked.

"The rest of the team; what about the rest of the team?" McKay said very distressed. "There're 38 people being held prisoner back there. We're not leaving them."

Beckett started to say, "We can come back for them …" when Stretton interrupted him.

"They're not there, Doctor," he said.

"But … but," McKay said wildly, "You didn't say you rescued them first."

"They're dead," Stretton told him baldly. "Prenum and Anscom killed them all back on the planet. They were never here."

McKay sagged. "I don't believe you," he said. "Prenum said he was going to feed them to his Wraith."

"All of their bodies are back in Atlantis," Stretton said holding McKay's gaze. "In the morgue-all of them. That's how we knew you were still alive, because there were 38 bodies, not 39."

McKay looked down at his feet. He said nothing, only nodded. When he looked back up, his face was set and determined. He shot a look at Prenum and said, "Well, let's go then."

Lorne held his P90 in front of him and climbed up out of the bunker. They waited for his signal and one by one crept out into a densely wooded area. On the surface, they squatted for a few minutes-long minutes-by the opening. Lorne tapped a "Which way?" query on Ladon's arm and the Genii leader pointed north-east. Lorne made to tap his radio and Chatham put out her hand to stop him. She waved her index finger at him and whispered that Prenum's Genii had Atlantis radios. Lorne sat back and made a "Then you call for help" gesture. Chatham unhooked a radio from her shoulder and Beckett had the urge to giggle. It was all very UK police drama.

"Ben?" she said softly into the radio.

"Guv," responded Tynan. "You took your time. Colonel Sheppard's anxious to know if you got Dr McKay."

"Safe and sound," said Chatham. She eyed McKay then muttered back into the radio, "Safe, anyway. We also have Prenum but we lack any of our Genii outside of Ladon. We think Prenum's lot got Ladon's guards." She gave their coordinates to Tynan who said Sheppard wanted a word.

"You couldn't have brought more radios?" Sheppard's voice came through.

"You're lucky we brought these, Colonel," said Chatham. "It's not like we thought we'd need them. Perhaps you should consider something a little less techie that can't be used by your enemies."

"I'll bring it up at the next staff meeting," Sheppard said sarcastically. "Put McKay on." She handed her radio to McKay and indicated which button to press. "Hey, Rodney, you okay?" On hearing Sheppard's voice, McKay blinked rapidly and opened and closed his mouth a few times. Sheppard, not getting a response, said anxiously, "Rodney?"

"Yes," McKay said finally. "About time you got here."

"My pleasure, Rodney." Sheppard's voice held a note of delight. "We're on our way. Put DI Chatham on."

McKay looked confused-Stretton the only police officer to have been named-so Chatham took the radio out of his hand.

"Colonel?" she asked.

"Everyone okay?" Sheppard asked.

"Prenum's gone and broken his nose and Dr Beckett seems to have forgotten all his medical skills," she said.

Beckett shrugged. It strangely didn't bother him to have the Genii scientist snuffling away through the ruins of his nose. It bothered him more that it didn't bother him. His inner doctor took over and said, You're disassociating again. It wasn't, Beckett considered, the best place to stop and have a chat to Sheppard about his mental state.

"How's your boss?" Sheppard asked.

"I'm fine, Colonel," said Stretton said into his own radio. "I'm not keen on our surroundings."

Sheppard said, "We parked on the other side of the gate. The area doesn't seem to be used as much. We're coming back in circles for a reccy."

"Good, thank you Colonel," said Stretton. He said to Ladon, "Where are the troops you promised?"

"They'll be at the village," said Ladon.

"We're not going to the village, dummkopf," said Breen.

"I thought we would be," said Ladon more loudly than Beckett or anyone else liked judging from the glares. He looked annoyed in the face of Breen's scorn. "I can hardly call them on our remote radios with Prenum's people listening in."

Breen opened his mouth to argue when Lorne said, "Shhh. Voices."

He made mysterious hand signals to the marines who melted into the woods, Cadman with them. They returned a few minutes later and Cadman whispered something urgently to Lorne. He glared at Ladon.

"There are troops in a clear search pattern," he hissed, indicating where Cadman had come from. "They're not friendly from what Cadman overheard-you doublecrossing piece of shit."

"Not me," denied Ladon. "It wasn't me."

Prenum chuckled, lisping gluggily, "Poor Ladon, you're as much an incompetent leader as you were an incompetent scientist."

Ladon's face darkened. The police officers together snapped softly, "Shut it" as Lorne and Cadman snarled "Shut up!" Prenum opened his mouth to speak again and Stretton's hand shot out and smacked him in the windpipe. Prenum fell back choking.

"You," said Stretton so mildly that Beckett thought he was about to pull out his gun and shoot, "are really annoying. When you're told to be quiet, _always a good idea to listen_."

Beckett noticed McKay shrinking away and patted his arm. He said quietly, "He's on our side."

McKay said faintly, "Oh. Good."

Stretton clicked his radio. "Colonel, we're being looked for; if we're attacked we have nowhere to hide."

"Ladon," came Sheppard's voice. "How long would it take them to get to the village? I'm right above you, I think. Hard to tell between the radiation and the trees."

"About 20 minutes, Colonel," said Ladon, leaning to speak into Chatham's radio.

"Right," said Sheppard. "Get to the village and I'll meet you by the tree stump. Ex-stump."

"It would be helpful if we knew where that was," said Breen into his radio.

Sheppard paused and said, "You know, it's like you guys have been here forever." Stretton looked away, his face shadowed, but Beckett saw him mouth "Feels like it" to himself. "Side of the tavern. There should be a hole in the ground where we removed a tree stump-don't ask. I'll drop off Teyla, Ronan and Tynan, and then come back to try and cover your exit. If they catch up and start shooting, you'll have some cover and they won't fire on their own people."

Ladon made a "give me the radio" gesture. Chatham handed him her radio and said, "Colonel, I don't know if that's true. If these guards are loyal to Prenum and helped in feeding my people to a Wraith, I don't think they'd worry about shooting people. I don't want to put my people at risk."

"I don't think we have any choice, Ladon," said Sheppard. "I can't land the jumper in these trees and it's too far to the next clearing if Prenum's people are after you. The village is closer if something else happens."

"Something else?" exclaimed McKay.

"Rodney, let us do our job," said Sheppard. "We're getting you out of here."

"Fine, fine, get on with it," grumped McKay.

They took the same protective formation as they had underground. Breen pulled Prenum along. The one time that the Genii scientist apparently stumbled, Breen put his gun at Prenum's stomach and murmured, only just in Beckett's hearing, "Boom." Prenum quickened his pace.

They reached the outskirts of the village surprisingly safely and Lorne said, "This is a trap."

"I hate those," complained McKay. He sounded cheerfully resigned. "Who the hell builds houses right next to a forest? Outside of the clear creep factor, it's just a fire hazard."

If Beckett wasn't mistaken, Chatham's eye ticked every time McKay said something. Rodney McKay was an acquired taste and despite his own head's current contrapuntal state, it was fascinating to see McKay through the eyes of strangers. Breen frowned at McKay every now and again and Stretton was, in turn, amused or worried judging by his face.

"Through or around," asked Chatham of Ladon.

"Around," said Ladon. "I should go and see where my men are."

Lorne's face suggested that he didn't trust Ladon to do anything. Neither did Stretton, Beckett thought.

"I think you should stay with us," said Stretton. "If your men haven't shown up by now, I suggest that you may well be safer sticking around."

Ladon said, "I don't …" and Cadman said brightly, "Knees."

"I know you don't trust me," said Ladon coldly, "But I have a responsibility to my people if Prenum is mounting a coup."

"Been there already," said Lorne. "Which way is the tavern?"

Ladon indicated to their left and as they got into their usual formation and headed towards out. Lorne's radio crackled but nothing else came through. Teyla's voice came softly from the trees, "Teyla and Ronon."

The Athosian and Satedan cautiously joined them. Teyla gently gave McKay a kiss on his cheek. Ronon gripped his shoulder and nodded in greeting. McKay shuffled his feet, looking down to avoid the group's sympathetic gazes. They kept moving quickly through the trees around the edge of the village.

"Mr Stretton," Teyla said in a low voice matching everyone else's. "Ben said he should stay with Colonel Sheppard in case he needed to contact you."

Sheppard's voice came through the police radios. "Will you guys hurry up? Stop standing around chatting."

That actually _made_ Stretton stop and look up. Everyone else stopped as well and Ladon leaned again to Chatham's radio to speak to Sheppard. "We're nearly at the tavern, Colonel. Just there," he indicated on the periphery of the village away from everything else. In between, Genii villagers, dressed in their rustic disguises, were holding a market of some sort. Beckett peered over Stretton's shoulder. They had a quick, whispered conversation, trying not to look conspicuous.

"Why don't we just walk straight across?" asked Lorne. "We have Ladon and Prenum with us-two Genii leaders."

"One sans nose," observed Chatham. "Will anyone notice that he's got blood all over him and has his hands cuffed?"

"Who cares?" said Cadman. "We have Ladon."

"Colonel, if this goes pearshaped, where's best for cover?" asked Stretton.

Sheppard responded, "You're going to have to get to the tavern in order for me to land and pick you up. I'd rather not squash all those people if I can help it. I won't be able to fire a drone with that crowd around either coz I'd blow you up, too."

"What do you think, Mr Stretton?" asked Lorne.

They were beginning to be noticed and Cadman shoved Prenum behind her. Ladon greeted people with a fixed smile and accepted various invitations to visit market stalls. He inclined his head at Stretton and Lorne.

"I think we're beginning to stand out," said Stretton. "Major, let's cut straight across. I think we can only see what happens."

"Agreed," concurred Lorne. "Okay, Ladon, lead on. I'll walk beside you."

"And him?" Cadman indicated Prenum.

"Broke his nose falling down some stairs," said Lorne. He said to Stretton, "We'll have to take off the handcuffs."

"Danny," directed Stretton. Breen cut the handcuffs off. Stretton leaned in and said in a viciously brutal voice to Prenum, "Don't try anything. Shoot him if you have to, Lieutenant."

"My pleasure," she smiled.

Lorne directed a couple of marines to walk to either side and slightly behind he and Ladon. They moved out into the square cautiously and stepped up to a normal walking pace as much as people greeting Ladon allowed. He stopped at various stalls but kept saying poor Prenum had fallen and he needed medical attention-his doctor was at the tavern. Cadman supported Prenum up as though he was drunk and held a cloth to his face. Don't suffocate him, Cadman, said Lorne smiling at people through gritted teeth. Not yet, anyway, Cadman replied. A couple of women offered to help but Ladon said that it was just a bloody nose and he'd be fine with his face cleaned up and an ale. They looked at Prenum doubtfully and Cadman put her arm around him and smiled widely. Breen stepped in close, his gun at Prenum's back. Ladon said, we have to get our guests to the tavern to discuss trade agreements, please excuse us.

The group walked on, the same thing happening over and over until a woman dressed in "Amish chic" stepped out of the crowd in front of Ladon.

"Sir," she said grabbing his arm and pulling him in towards her, "My child is sick and the doctors say they cannot help him."

Ladon replied, trying to get away from her, "Perhaps you could come to see me tomorrow."

"No," she said insistently. "I must speak with you now."

"I understand but we have visitors. I need to escort them to the tavern and take care of Prenum," Ladon said sympathetically as Beckett's mind screamed "trap".

As Ladon turned to indicate Prenum, one of the marines shoved him away and snapped up his P90, shooting the woman at point blank range. She fell forwards onto Lorne, the gun in her hand clattering to the ground. People around them screamed and panicked and as they pushed and shoved to get out of the way, Beckett spotted Genii soldiers moving towards them in the crowd at the same time the Genii saw them. Lifting their rifles, the soldiers fired. Beckett's group split, diving for cover where they found it.

Beckett ended up with McKay, Stretton, Breen and Prenum, behind an entirely inadequate-in McKay's vocal opinion-vegetable stall. Beckett took a quick glance around its side to see if he could spot any of the others.

"Colonel …" Stretton snapped into his radio.

"I see it, I see it," Sheppard called back. "Shit, there's people running around everywhere. They really are just shooting anyone who gets in their way." He paused for a moment. "Okay, they're fanning out all over the place. There's at least …"-he paused again as if counting-"Okay, at least 25, maybe 30. You're not going to get to the tavern. This was a stupid idea."

McKay leaned over to Stretton and said into the radio, "You're only realizing that now?"

"Shut up, Rodney," said Sheppard.

"Can I fire back yet?" asked Lorne, far too laconically for Beckett's taste. Perhaps it was his head playing games but none of them seemed overly concerned. Maybe he wasn't concerned either. He could feel the conga line stirring for comment and the fear that had plagued him since McKay had disappeared creeping up on him again. He stared at his hands, at McKay's bruised hands, and then he looked at Prenum who was looking pleased behind the puffiness, the bruising and his lack of a decent nose.

"Wait," he heard Stretton say. "Civilians?"

"Mostly hiding," Sheppard said from outside Beckett's fog. "Okay, now would be good."

Lorne rolled out from behind a stall and fired his P90 at the Genii soldiers. Cadman and the other marines did the same. Beckett could see them from the angle of their stall. He could see McKay shaking in reaction and Stretton's watchful stillness. He glanced again at Prenum whose smile had broadened. Beckett watched in wonder outside of himself. His mother, his inner doctor, the conga line all clamored for attention and he ignored them and watched and watched and watched. The scream in his head grew louder and everything began fading away, except for Prenum's Cheshire cat smile. And soon, Prenum became smaller and smaller until he was barely there.

The noise in his head got louder and louder until it coalesced into a broad Glaswegian accent.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Tynan screamed into the radio. "There's a kid!"

And the noise in his head just … _stopped_. No chiding Scottish mother, no inner doctor, no conga line. Out of the corner of his eye he saw DI Chatham scramble from behind the stall where she was hiding and dive for a young boy as a Genii soldier lifted his rifle. Later he realized it was the most clear-headed, most calm moment in his life-he dived out after them. As Chatham caught the boy he heard gunshots and grabbing the both of them he pulled them out of the line of fire and down some steps leading to a store.

He pushed the boy into the arms of a woman in the entrance. She pulled the boy in close, looked at Beckett and shut the door. He heard Chatham cough and her radio click.

"Cameron?" she said in a small voice. Beckett turned to her sharply. "Cameron, Ally's going to be cross with me …"

There was blood pouring from her neck and chest, and he grabbed her radio. "You'd better get over here, Mr Stretton," he said. "Now."

He pulled out his medical kit and frantically began to work. Ten seconds later, amidst gunfire and Sheppard cursing through the radio, Stretton appeared at his side.

"Oh go …" Stretton cut himself off. He sounded scared. Beckett ignored it and kept working. "Katie? Dr Beckett?"

Beckett grabbed his hand. "Hold that there. _No, there!_" he ordered. "Hell and damnation." He took hold of Chatham's chin. "You hold on, love. We're nearly home."

"Home," she breathed.

Blood was coming from her mouth. Beckett glanced at Stretton; he looked terrified. Her blood was pouring onto him as he crouched helplessly at her side, holding her up as Beckett directed. Her head slipped onto his shoulder and Beckett felt for a pulse and listened to her heart. He sat back slowly.

"What are you doing?" said Stretton in an angry hiss. "What are you doing?"

"She's gone," Beckett said gently. Stretton started shaking his head and Beckett put his hand out. "The bullets hit her in her jugular vein, as well as her heart. It takes minutes. If we were back on Atlantis, maybe. But not here."

Stretton stared at him, a wild stare. And then his face simply shut down. He touched her face, and he, too, sat back. He watched her with no expression at all. Beckett could still hear Lorne and the marines firing. He could hear the cries of wounded Genii but the only thing that mattered was the dead woman and her friend sitting watching her with a terrifyingly blank look on his face. Stretton's hand came up and clicked his radio.

"Danny," he said calmly. "Let Prenum go."

There was a pause. "Boss?" asked Breen in a voice of doubt. "I don't understand."

"Not carnival related, Danny; let him go," said Stretton. "Colonel, I'm letting Prenum go now."

Beckett lifted his head to watch. Prenum came out from behind the market stall, crouched low and running. There was a hum in the air and the puddlejumper materialized 20 feet above the ground with its door open and flat. Prenum straightened but froze.

Kneeling in the door of the jumper, Ben Tynan aimed and fired his rifle. From that distance, he couldn't miss. As Prenum's head vaporized-just as the Wraith's had on Gilo's planet, just as Anscom's had in the observation room-the puddlejumper peeled away. No one else fired at all. Not the Atlanteans. Not the Genii. There was silence.

And beside Carson Beckett, Cameron Stretton closed his eyes.

_TBC …_

_Notes:_

_Warrant card: the British equivalent to a US police officer's badge. I gather that they look like drivers licences these days._

_Ying tong ying tong iddle I po: From the Ying Tong song, because as well as being a Monty Python fan I suspect that McKay also likes The Goons._

_Not carnival related: One of my favourite pieces of Met slang that I came across. It comes from the Notting Hill Carnival, a big Afro-Carribean festival in the London suburb of Notting Hill (yes, like the movie). It's always a completely peaceful carnival, so much so that any crimes that take place during it are never ever related to the carnival at all, The Met promises._

_Next: a police interview with Dr Rodney McKay._


	20. Chapter 20

_In which the next bit from last time is taken away and shifted to Chapter 21 … sorry._

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 20**

Ladon was the first to go out. The Genii leader stood, straightened his tunic and calmly walked into the firing zone. Beckett had to admit it was a brave thing to do.

He stood next to Prenum's body and called, "It's over. Put down your weapons."

A man weaved his way through the stalls. He was in uniform and carried the body of the woman who had tried to assassinate Ladon.

"Why?" he asked simply. "Where are your troops, Ladon Radim? You use these outworlders and think this makes you a great leader?"

Ladon shook his head. "No," he said. "They came to free their friend. Prenum was using him as he used you. What allegiance should you have to Prenum?"

"I am loyal to the Genii," the man said. "What of you?"

"I am loyal to the Genii," Ladon replied. "Prenum was not."

"Prenum …" the man looked down at Prenum's body. "I disliked the man but he did not ally himself to outworlders as you have done."

"An alliance useful to the Genii," countered Ladon. "I would rather that for the Genii than the one Prenum held-did you help him feed our people to the Wraith?"

Beckett glanced at Stretton whose expression hadn't changed. His eyes had opened but Beckett couldn't tell if he was listening to Ladon or not. His hands were folded together and he was very still, watching Chatham. Before them, a short distance away, Ladon and the soldier continued their polite, oddly formal conversation. The man looked revolted and shifted the body of the woman in his arms so that her head fell off his shoulder.

"I did not," he said in a low voice that Beckett could barely hear. "The Wraith is dead. We killed it yesterday. You say Prenum did this. You didn't."

"Prenum kept it secret. He hid the Wraith and fed people to it that he thought were of no value. _Our people_," said Ladon his anger bubbling to the surface. "I had to learn it from the outworlders." He eyes looked over the woman. "Your wife?"

"Yes," said the man simply. He waited.

"She tried to kill me," Ladon said. He also waited.

"She thought the Wraith was yours," the man said eventually. "We lost our son."

"Because of him," Ladon insisted, pointing down at Prenum. "He's dead. You have your revenge. Your men need to lay down their weapons so we can put this behind us."

"He's good," Beckett heard Sheppard murmur on the radio.

Beckett wanted to reply but he didn't want to touch the radio Chatham was wearing and he didn't want to chance Stretton. The policeman's stillness was dangerous.

"And the outworlders?" the man asked. "What of them?"

"Prenum murdered 38 of them to get one man. The rest came for him. We let them go," said Ladon. "It's the right thing to do."

Beckett half-expected Sheppard to say something at that; Ladon was citing Sheppard's mantra after all, but Sheppard was silent. Beckett suspected the jumper was hovering above the village, just as it had previously. He stood cautiously as the man nodded.

"Ladon, you have wounded. I'd like to help," he called to Ladon and he saw Stretton flinch. He knelt and gathered his bag and said gently, "I have to."

Stretton took his eyes off Chatham and said waspishly, "I'm not stopping you, Dr Beckett. By all means, go help the terrorists."

For a short while, he had thought Stretton might be catatonic, in shock at least, but he didn't have that sort of luck. Beckett patted him on the shoulder and said he wouldn't be long. Stretton nodded and clicked his radio.

"Danny," he said. "Get over here."

Breen came hurrying over, slowing when he saw the blood on Beckett's clothes as they met at the top of the steps. He looked past Beckett, whitened, and said, "Oh god. Sir?"

Beckett didn't wait to hear Stretton's response. He hurried over to Ladon, and began to help the wounded. It wasn't until Sheppard touched his arm that he even looked up.

"Where's Rodney?" Sheppard said. "Sorry, Carson, I know you want to help but we have to get him back to Atlantis. And where're the bobbies?"

Beckett finished up his patient; Sheppard didn't know because they hadn't put anything out over the radio.

"DI Chatham was shot," he said not knowing how else to put it so chose blunt by default. "When she went out after the boy. She's dead."

Sheppard went very still, not unlike Stretton had. "Cameron?" he asked.

"I think it's better if we back to Atlantis sooner rather than later," said Beckett. "I don't like how he's acting. The Genii medical people have arrived now. Rodney …" He looked around. "Rodney?"

They went searching for McKay and found him still behind the market stall, sitting curled up into a tight ball, his face buried in his knees. He was shaking a little. Sheppard crouched down beside him.

"Hey Rodney," he called soothingly. "Wanna go home?"

McKay's head lifted; his face was streaked with tears. "Everyone left," he said. "I thought you'd gone."

"Just parking the jumper," said Sheppard quietly. "Come on, we can go now."

"Sheppard," called Ladon. He motioned Sheppard over saying, "I'm sorry, Dr McKay, I know you want to leave but I won't be a moment. Thank you for your help yet again, Dr Beckett."

Beckett nodded and Sheppard patted McKay on the arm affectionately-no awkwardness when he wasn't thinking about it.

"Stay with Rodney," Sheppard said. He pulled Beckett in. "Is he hurt? What about the blood they found?"

"He's …" Beckett paused remembering Chatham's advice. "He's mobile. I can examine him back in Atlantis."

"Fine," said Sheppard. "I won't be long."

He walked across to Ladon, the two men conversing. Sheppard nodded a couple of times and they shook hands. Sheppard came back across to Beckett and McKay. At the same time, Tynan came over, carrying his rifle.

"Colonel," he said wearing his woodentop face-bland, no emotions, the faceless automaton that Beckett had originally thought. "Mr Stretton would like to know when we can leave."

"Now," said Sheppard. "I'm sorry …"

Tynan cut him off moving away. "Yes sir," he said. "I'll let Mr Stretton know."

"Closing ranks," Sheppard said softly. He looked down at McKay, still sitting with his knees up to his chest. "Let's go home, Rodney."

He held out his hand and McKay gingerly held out his own. Sheppard hauled McKay to his feet and much to Beckett's delight, gave him a quick hug. Ronon and Teyla approached, both of them smiling at the display.

"Hey," the Satedan said. "We going or what?"

"Right now," said Sheppard. He looked past them and said, "Oh, crap."

It was like a funeral procession. Tynan and Breen walked in front, their guns still out-held downwards but still out. Behind the bland expressions, Beckett could feel the anger radiating from them. He didn't get that from Stretton. He got nothing at all, despite Stretton cradling Chatham's body in his arms. They walked past the Atlantean team towards the jumper without acknowledgement. Ronon and Teyla, obviously unaware of what had happened looked horrified.

"I don't …" said McKay. "Is she?"

"Yes," said Beckett. "She was shot."

"That's my …" fumbled McKay. He looked frightened.

"It's not your fault, Rodney," said Beckett. "All of this was down to Prenum. He's dead. His Wraith is dead. Let's go home."

McKay looked wistful and breathed, "Home," just as Chatham had. Beckett blinked rapidly. There was something in his eyes-dust perhaps.

The marines walked through the gate back to Atlantis. They waited for a minute or so and the jumper took off. Beckett sat in the back with the police. McKay sat in the front next to Sheppard with Ronon and Teyla behind. The police said nothing on the short journey back to Atlantis. Sheppard, he heard through the closed door, called for medical teams to meet them in the jumper bay. He didn't mention a casualty but it was a worried Elizabeth Weir who met them nonetheless.

The door opened and she said into the darkened jumper, "Rodney? Is Rodney okay?"

A breezy McKay swung out to greet her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said. "I should go have a shower actually. You wouldn't countenance it but the Genii bathroom facilities leave a lot to be desired so I'll just head off to my quarters."

Beckett, as gently as possible, grabbed his arm. "Infirmary please, Rodney," he said firmly. "I need to check you over."

"Really, Carson," McKay danced away. "I'm fine."

Beckett drew a breath. "I need to check you for radiation poisoning," he fibbed.

"I'm not …" McKay stopped. "You said I wasn't dying of radiation poisoning."

He should have said that he knew he wasn't but that wasn't going to get McKay to the infirmary. Besides, he wanted him out of the way of the police-out of Stretton's way, at least.

"Well," he said crossing his fingers. "Can't be too sure. So, onto a gurney and enjoy the ride."

Sheppard stood in the doorway of the jumper, blocking Weir's view. He looked worried but vaguely amused at McKay's antics. McKay got on a gurney and the medics took him off, with him complaining all the way. Beckett motioned the other gurney forward.

"There's another gurney, Mr Stretton," he called quietly.

Weir frowned. "Carson?" she asked.

As Stretton came out carrying Chatham's body, Weir shrank back, her hand over her mouth. Stretton and the other police didn't acknowledge her or anyone else. She glanced at Sheppard who shook his head in a "Leave it alone" gesture.

Stretton placed Chatham gently on the gurney and Beckett, holding the cotton blanket said quietly, "May I?"

The policeman raised his head to look at Beckett. "Thank you, Dr Beckett," he said. Beckett placed the blanket over Chatham and Stretton turned to Weir, still with that terrifyingly blank expression on his face. "Dr Weir, may I have a word? Perhaps in an hour or so?"

"Of course," she nodded. "I'm sorry, Mr Stretton. I don't know what to say."

For a moment Beckett thought that Stretton was going to reply that perhaps Weir should say nothing at all but he didn't. He simply inclined his head and left, walking past Barker who had run in with a smile at Breen-one that faltered as he realized what had happened. Breen spoke to him quietly and they turned to Tynan.

As the medics turned the gurney, Tynan said roughly, "We'll do that, thanks mate."

Beckett nodded at the medics and said quietly, "This way, Sergeant."

"We don't want her in with the rest of them," said Breen suddenly. "In the morgue. Not there."

He looked as though he knew that he sounded irrational but Beckett nodded again in understanding and said, "There's a room off the infirmary."

The police looked at each other. "I'm sorry, Dr Beckett," Tynan's voice faltered a little. "There'll have to be an autopsy." He looked briefly upset then blinked it away into nothing. "Procedure. This is a …"-he gave a bitter, ironic laugh-"It's a death abroad. We'll take the guvnor to the infirmary now, if that's okay."

"Sergeant, um …" Weir stopped him hesitantly. "Is there anything we can do for Mr Stretton?"

"Leave him alone, ma'am," Tynan suggested. "And don't labor on about how sorry you are. It'll just irritate him and he's pissed already."

"I'm concerned that he'll …" Weir said. "That he'll take it out on Rodney." Breen, Tynan and Barker looked offended but said nothing. Weir floundered a little. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, ma'am," said Breen woodenly. "You shouldn't. Please excuse us."

As they went out the door, escorting the gurney, Weir turned wryly to Sheppard.

"I don't seem to be able to catch a break with them at all," she said.

Sheppard shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not," he said frankly, "but I don't think Cameron would take it out on Rodney. He's well aware who was at fault."

"See, you get them," she said waving her hand in the direction of the departed police. "They get you."

"I get that they're just as much affected by the death of a team member as we are when it happens to us," Sheppard said curtly.

"I know that," Weir insisted. "I just think that if he insists on interviewing Rodney right away … Look, I don't think either of them is up to it."

Sheppard looked down at his feet. "Okay, I'll talk to him but not now. He's coming to see you anyway." Beckett had been silent through this and Sheppard turned to him. "What do you think, Carson?"

"I don't think either of you is wrong," admitted Beckett. "He said very little on the Genii homeworld. He just sort of shut down after she died but he was very angry when I stopped treating her. DI Chatham told me that she'd known his wife since they were wee kiddies and that they're … they were"-he corrected himself-"her best friends. For one thing, he has to go back home and tell his wife that she's dead and that's outside of losing a colleague he's known from almost her first day in the job. He's not going to blame Rodney but Rodney being Rodney, well, he can be a little annoying." He thought for a moment. "Do you want me there when you talk to him?" He directed the question at both of them.

"Yes," they said in unison.

Sheppard amended, "Better you than Heightmeyer. I think he'd rip her to shreds."

"Okay," Beckett agreed. "I'd best get to the infirmary before Rodney escapes."

As he got near the infirmary he could hear shouting: one voice, piercingly adamant.

"Look, I told you, I'm fine," he heard McKay bellow, a declaration that was a clear indication to Beckett that McKay certainly wasn't fine.

Sheppard appeared beside him. "They can hear that up in the control room," he said.

"No, they can't, Colonel," said Beckett severely. "You can help me calm him down." He walked into the infirmary with Sheppard at his heels. "Right, thank you ladies and gentlemen, you can leave Dr McKay with me and his keeper."

"Keeper?" McKay spluttered.

"Rodney," said Beckett firmly. "You will be examined now. Thank you."

"Or what?" McKay asked mulishly.

"Or nothing," said Sheppard gently. "Rodney, we know you were hurt. I mean, for god's sakes, look at your hands. Let Carson look at you and then, I promise, you can shower for as long as you like. You can turn into a prune if you want to. And then you can have some proper food and some coffee."

"I don't want …" McKay started.

His obstreperousness in not being examined, his hesitancy, and that he failed to grab at the offer of food and coffee rang alarm bells in Beckett's head.

"What don't you want?" Beckett asked. "You do know that you're safe now, Rodney, don't you?"

McKay folded his arms, hiding his hands, looked stubborn and said, "Of course, I do, Carson. I'm back in Atlantis and I'm safe."

"Look, Rodney, your staff want to see you. Zelenka wants to see you," said Sheppard trying to jolly McKay along. "I'm sure you'll want to receive his grateful thanks for saving his life."

It didn't work. At the mention of Zelenka McKay closed up and said nothing. There was nothing more worrying than a silent McKay and Beckett and Sheppard exchanged a glance.

"Go have a shower, Rodney," said Beckett giving in because he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't force McKay to be examined; he was compos mentis and he was mobile. He considered calling Heightmeyer but what he really wanted was Chatham's sharp observations-dammit.

"Really?" McKay asked suspiciously.

"Yes," negotiated Beckett. "As long as you meet me for a coffee and some food in an hour."

"I need to sleep," countered McKay.

"If you don't meet Carson in the mess, I'll drag you up there myself," Sheppard played the heavyhanded bully.

"Fine," said McKay shortly. "You can come and escort me if you think it's necessary."

"It's so necessary that I'm even going to escort you _to_ your quarters," said Sheppard smiling tightly.

"Fine," McKay said again.

He got off the infirmary bed and winced a little. Sheppard and Beckett both looked away, pretending not to notice. As McKay brushed past them, Sheppard mimed to Beckett to get the corridors cleared. They were lucky considering McKay's fragile state that his science team hadn't arrived in force with Zelenka at their head.

Beckett glanced at his watch, noting the time, had a quick shower and change of clothes, and made his way up to Weir's office. She was frowning over something on her computer.

"How's Rodney?" she asked anxiously.

"Refusing to be examined," said Beckett. "I sent him off for a shower. Honestly, I don't think he's too hurt. Remember, Anscom said that there was a lot of blood but Rodney wasn't badly injured. He has visible bruises on his hands and he winces a little when he moves. He needs to speak to someone because he's running on sheer adrenaline at the moment and when that runs out I don't think it's going to be pretty. He was up and down on the Genii homeworld but he's defensive now. DI Chatham …"-he caught his breath-"She suggested he'd been beaten and I think that's likely. I don't think it was much worse than that. Prenum wouldn't have damaged his prize, not after the effort to get him there. It's mainly psychological, I think; he'll need a lot of counseling."

"I called Radek and told him to keep the science team away from the infirmary while Rodney was being examined but if he's on the loose ..." Weir shook her head and asked, "What happened to Prenum? Sheppard didn't wait to give me a rundown. I take it you caught him?"

"Mr Stretton let him go," said Beckett, "And DS Tynan shot him in the head. Maybe he thought Prenum was escaping." He knew this last wasn't true but he wasn't going to second guess. "Ladon was back in control. Prenum's own men killed the Wraith."

She nodded slowly. "And DI Chatham?"

"Shot saving a boy," said Beckett briefly.

He looked down at his hands and listened for the conga line, his inner doctor, and his mother. Nothing. His head was clear-no fog at all. All the same, he didn't notice the knock at Weir's office door. He looked up a little startled when she stood.

"Mr Stretton," she said. She indicated a chair. "Please."

"Thank you, Dr Weir," he said.

"Carson and I were just talking about Rodney," she explained. "Carson can go if you want."

"That isn't necessary," Stretton said.

His voice was even, as though he was concentrating on keeping it that way. He had showered and changed. The bandage on his neck was new and Stretton caught Beckett frowning at it.

"I went to the infirmary, Dr Beckett," he said. "Dr Biro changed the bandage for me."

Stretton looked drained and very pale, as though he'd thrown up. He looked like Sheppard had when they'd thought the away team had been taken by the Wraith.

"You wanted to see me," Weir said.

"Yes," said Stretton. "This request is out of order, Dr Weir, I know that. I'm aware that we were to wait for the Daedelus to return but I understand that thanks to your ZPM"-he said zed-"the stargate is a quicker route. Now that you have Dr McKay back and I can interview him, I'd like to take my team home as quickly as possible. I don't know if you need to explain it to the IOA and I'll understand if you can't."

Weir said sympathetically, "Of course, Mr Stretton. I can, uh, _justify it if I need to_."

Stretton gave a faint smile as she repeated his words about the investigation.

"Thank you," he said. He was being very polite. "Obviously, I'd like to interview Dr McKay as soon as possible. Ben and Danny are finishing up their reports on the Genii. You'll get copies of those for your records."

"What about copies of your report on Peter Grodin?" asked Weir immediately.

"I'm sorry, Dr Weir, but no," said Stretton. "It will be cleared by the IOA and the Home Office and then it will go to the Coroner. Whether you get copies of it is not up to me."

"I don't think Rodney should be interviewed right now," said Weir. "He's not acting himself."

"Really?" asked Stretton levelly. "How can you tell?"

Beckett put in. "Rodney is a hypochondriac and he's refusing to be examined. I'm pretty sure that most of it is psychological and I want to make sure he's fit for interview first."

Stretton looked fleetingly irritated but schooled his face back to politeness and said, "Very well. I'll rely on your judgment, Dr Beckett."

"I'm seeing him again shortly," said Beckett. "I'll let you know."

"Right," said Stretton. He got up. "Thank you, Dr Weir." As she nodded, he continued gravely, "Dr Beckett, I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time apologizing to you. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. Thank you for your care."

He didn't wait for Beckett's response. Weir and Beckett sat there glumly.

She ventured, "Sometimes I get annoyed when people don't act the way I expect them to."

"He reminds you of Sheppard," said Beckett shrewdly.

"He's less predictable," said Weir. "I know John well enough now to know how he's going to react to things. Mr Stretton … I think even if he asked me to call him by his first name I couldn't do it. I don't know how John gets away with it."

"I think Colonel Sheppard just started calling him by his first name," said Beckett. "Note that Mr Stretton-hmm, yes, a 'Mr'-still calls him Colonel. Bit like Rodney and the Colonel."

"Or you and Colonel Sheppard," Weir pointed out. "You don't call him John."

"Uh, no," Beckett said, a little surprised on the realization. "Speaking of whom, he's to escort Rodney to the mess so I can get some food into him."

"Have fun," said Weir. "I don't think Rodney is likely to visit me anytime soon."

"Probably not," sighed Beckett, wondering what sorts of madmen were in McKay's head.

He went to the mess via the infirmary wanting to make sure that a guard was posted outside the room he'd allocated for Chatham's body and found Tynan standing at parade rest.

"You don't have to be here, you know," he said gently.

"I know," Tynan responded. "Danny'll be up later and Ade is doing the early turn."

"What about Mr Stretton?" asked Beckett.

Tynan shook his head. "This is our job," he said firmly.

"What about the autopsy?" Beckett broached the subject awkwardly.

"Would you do us favour?" asked Tynan. "I think Mr Stretton's a bit … about your Dr Biro. You know, after the other autopsies."

"I'll do the autopsy if you want," said Beckett and amended, "If it's okay with Mr Stretton."

"He'd prefer it," Tynan said. "No offence to Dr Biro."

"She likes her job," said Beckett. "I have to meet Rodney. Let the staff know if you need anything."

Tynan nodded and looked grateful. He returned to his parade rest-the military stance not entirely masking the hurt.

Beckett met Sheppard-sans McKay-on the way to the mess.

"Where's Rodney?" Beckett demanded.

Sheppard looked exasperated. "I got called away for 10 minutes. By the time I got back to his quarters he was gone."

"Maybe he'll meet us in the mess," Beckett suggested hopefully.

"If he's not there, I'll send out search parties," said Sheppard sounding tired.

They got coffee, settled into a table, and sat in silence until Sheppard touched Beckett on the arm.

"Don't know whether to go out or not," he whispered. "Don't turn around." Beckett did. "Carson!"

Slumped in a chair, one foot up on a balcony rail, a cigarette hanging from a dangling hand, Cameron Stretton was the picture of "I'm in a mood, leave me alone." Beckett wondered why he was there at all until Stretton took a sip of a hot drink of some sort. He remembered that the quarters the police had been assigned were minimalist at best-derelict at worst-a decision that in retrospect seemed over-the-top spiteful. McKay had once suggested that area of the city be condemned.

"Leave him be," said Beckett. "He was being very polite to Elizabeth earlier. I mean, _very polite_." Sheppard frowned heavily. "They're going as soon as they've interviewed Rodney; they're not waiting for the Daedelus."

"I haven't had a chance to speak to him yet," said Sheppard.

"I'd leave it, Colonel," advised Beckett. "He needs to sort things out himself."

Barker came into the mess and grabbed a coffee. He craned his neck to look at the balcony, looked down at the notepad he was carrying, and strolled out.

"Boss," he said.

Stretton said, without looking up, "What news?"

"Databurst from Earth," said Barker. "I usually get out the interesting bits. Murder Squad's out and about in Suffolk and Northumberland. Northern Ireland, as usual. This is a good one-our lot." He held out the pad and Stretton took it.

"Hmm, trips to Europe all round," said Stretton. "Some people get all the fun jobs." He handed the pad back. "Is Ben still doing his vigil thing?"

"Yes sir," said Barker. "I'm doing the early turn."

Stretton sighed unhappily. "You don't have to. I told Ben." He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"And yet, we are," said Barker. "Danny filled me in on everything. There's a reason I like bugs better than people."

"The Wraith are bugs," Stretton said.

"I like them less, boss," said Barker. "But they're half people so that's probably why."

"The things are also people," Stretton quoted.

"Sometimes I wonder," said Barker. "Danny wants to know if I'm coming back with you."

"Are you?" asked Stretton.

"How long have I got to think about it?" Barker wanted to know.

"Depends on Dr McKay," said Stretton. He looked at the pad again. "Hmm, Russia." He shook his head. "My wife would kill me."

Barker gave him a sweet smile. "I put in all the reports I could find," he said handing over the pad and leaving.

Beckett approved immediately. Distract him. He thought Stretton was probably looking for a distraction. He said as much to Sheppard.

Sheppard replied, "Maybe …"-he looked suddenly alarmed and half got out of his seat-"Shit! Carson!"

There was a movement on the other side of the balcony. McKay was approaching Stretton hesitantly. Stretton didn't seem to notice.

"Um," said McKay with that awkward, socially inept, blundering style that was peculiarly his own. "Uh, hi."

For a moment, Beckett thought Stretton wasn't going to respond and in some ways, didn't want him to, but Stretton lifted his head and turned it slowly to McKay.

"Too late," said Beckett softly.

_TBC …_

_Notes_:

_This was actually one chapter along with Ch 21 but I figured that nearly 10,000 words was too long and split them, hence the interview going into the next chapter (which will be posted just as soon as I've fed the dog and done householdy things)._

_Only one bit of slang this time, which is "early turn": The police station shift that starts at 6 am._

_"The things are also people" is from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams._

_Next: It's hometime ..._


	21. Chapter 21

_In which the kind reader is warned that things of an unpleasant nature are discussed, albeit vaguely …_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 21**

Beckett couldn't see Stretton's face but he could see McKay's anxiety.

"Dr McKay," said Stretton courteously. "May I help you with something?"

McKay opened and closed his mouth a few times, guppy-like, as though now having made the approach didn't know what to do.

Stretton waited a moment and said, "Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"No, no," said McKay. "I'm fine."

Stretton nodded and waited again. "Would you like to sit down?" he suggested.

McKay quickly sat and jiggled in his seat.

Sheppard whispered, "If he asks about Grodin, I'm going to be pissed."

Beckett shook his head and said, "He'll wait for a formal interview."

Stretton lit a cigarette and McKay spluttered, "Do you have any idea what that can do to your lungs?"

"Yes," answered Stretton. "I've decided to spend the evening polluting your waterways since there's no fine for it, so Colonel Sheppard tells me." He tossed the lit cigarette over the balcony.

"That's disgusting," said McKay. He seemed to realize that Stretton didn't really care and went quiet. He jiggled in his chair some more and blurted out, "Why aren't you angry?"

"At whom?" Stretton asked calmly.

"Your … your … She got shot because you rescued me," said McKay.

"Wouldn't that be Prenum's fault then?" Stretton asked reasonably. Was he being too reasonable? Sheppard twitched.

"Of course, it was his fault!" McKay snapped.

"Yet you think that I should be angry with you?" Stretton sounded puzzled, though Beckett didn't think that he was.

"No," McKay denied.

"Okay," said Stretton amiably. He reached for his drink and said, "How are your hands?"

McKay immediately tucked them out of sight. "Fine," he said. Stretton didn't look away and McKay said defensively, "What?"

"Liar," Stretton said. He took a sip of his drink.

"I don't have to stay here and listen to this," said McKay.

"You're the one who came to me, Dr McKay," Stretton said. "What do you want?"

McKay looked suddenly lost. "I don't know," he said. "What happened to your neck?"

"Anscom happened," said Stretton.

"You said he was dead," McKay said uncertainly. What, Beckett wondered, did it take to destroy the confidence of someone like Rodney McKay?

"Yes," said Stretton.

"You killed him?" McKay jiggled in his chair some more.

"No," said Stretton. "I was on the floor bleeding like a stuck pig."

"Oh," said McKay doubtfully. "Who did? Sheppard?"

"Dr Beckett," said Stretton.

"Carson?" McKay said in disbelief.

"Yes," said Stretton. "I think I forgot to thank him for that one."

"He thinks I should have a medical exam," McKay said in a complaining but strangely hopeful tone, as though he was asking for advice.

"He's a doctor, they're like that," said Stretton. "Never happy unless they're prescribing a tablet, or bandaging something. Like the military-never happy unless they're ordering people about."

"He knows we're here," Sheppard hissed. "Man has eyes at the back of his head."

Stretton continued, "Why don't you want him to examine you?"

"None of your business," McKay said immediately.

"Fair enough," said Stretton. He didn't say anything else.

"But you want to know," said McKay.

"Not really," said Stretton. "I think you ought to have a medical exam but not because I care whether you should have one."

"Okay," said McKay. "What then?"

"It's simple, Dr McKay," said Stretton. "As selfish as this sounds, I can't leave until I interview you and I can't interview you until Dr Beckett says that you're fit for interview. He won't say that you're fit for interview until he examines you. I don't want to be stuck in this godforsaken fleapit for months on end because you won't have a medical examination. I want to take my team home and whether that happens anytime soon is up to you."

"Ah yes," said McKay mockingly, sounding almost normal, "Use guilt."

"You're already feeling guilty," said Stretton. "Why else would you be here talking to me?"

"Oh, now it's reverse psychology." McKay sounded nasty.

"I'm not a psychologist," Stretton shot back. "For that you need Dr Smiley since she's the only psychologist around here. I would have referred you to Kate Chatham but she's dead."

"Shit," Sheppard swore. "That's enough."

"Wait," said Beckett. "No, this is good."

"You've got to be kidding me, Carson," said Sheppard.

"He has no investment in Rodney at all," said Beckett as McKay got up and paced agitatedly. "He doesn't care; Rodney's just a piece of evidence to him and Rodney knows that. He's the one person that Rodney can trust for an honest opinion."

McKay stopped in front of Stretton and said, "I don't want …"

"You think that Beckett's going to tell anyone?" Stretton interrupted.

Tell anyone what? Beckett pondered as McKay and Stretton got even more cryptic, one interrupting the other. Beckett tapped his fingers on the table and got thoughtful. Sheppard looked confused-and as though he wanted to shake someone, probably both of them.

"Do you have any idea?" Sheppard began to ask.

"Shhh," hissed Beckett but McKay had stood. He gave a peculiarly formal nod to Stretton and marched out. "Follow Rodney and see if he's all right."

"Where are you going?" asked Sheppard. He sniffed a little and muttered, "Godforsaken fleapit … hnhh."

"I'm going to talk to cryptoman," said Beckett. He walked onto the balcony and said, "Do you think that threatening Rodney is going to do any good?"

Stretton put down the pad. "He's going to the infirmary, Dr Beckett, the rest is up to you."

"And if I decide that he's still unfit for interview?" Beckett challenged.

Stretton got up, towering over Beckett. "Then you'd best hope that I get back to London in the next six weeks because if I don't then I am like to become even more unbearable than I am now."

"What's happening in six weeks?" Beckett asked.

"What?" Stretton looked as though he didn't realize what he'd said. "Oh, wedding anniversary." Beckett didn't think so and was about to say as much when Stretton said, "McKay needs to talk to a professional, sooner rather than later."

"I know," said Beckett. "He gets on well with Dr Heightmeyer."

"Good," said Stretton.

"Try not to be too harsh on him in the interview," said Beckett.

"What if he did kill Grodin?" Stretton asked. "What are you going do?"

"What are _you_ going to do?" answered Beckett. "Arrest him?"

"I have no powers of arrest here," Stretton said. "I'll write up my report and he can be sent back later on or not at all. I imagine it would become political. Out of my hands, if so."

"Prenum didn't like people in his personal space," started Beckett, thinking of McKay's bruised hands.

"Thirty-eight people died because Prenum wanted help with his nuclear program," said Stretton. "That's bad enough for McKay and I think it's likely that deep down he knew they were dead. Some of them could have helped Prenum's program as well but only McKay was there. He had to have wondered. Prenum needed McKay's help but he didn't know that anyone else on the away team was qualified. Prenum wouldn't have touched McKay, not even to hit him."

"Prenum murdered some of the away team personally, though," pointed out Beckett.

"True," agreed Stretton. "But I think in one important way, Prenum was an ascetic." He hesitated. "I have no evidence of this whatsoever, but have you ever read the Marquis?"

"Bits," said Beckett revolted.

"Do you know the story of the servant with syphilis?" asked Stretton.

Beckett froze and stared at Stretton. He remembered his first impression of him: canny, one to watch. Then Beckett left the mess hall at a run. When he got to the infirmary, Sheppard was pacing up and down the corridor outside. McKay was sitting in his office. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting.

He looked up at Beckett. He had on his brave face, the one that nearly broke Beckett's heart every time he saw it. It meant he was deathly afraid but taking action nonetheless; it meant that he thought he was going to die but was taking a step into the unknown anyway; and when he showed that face to his friends it meant he trusted them-perhaps more than he ought to. McKay looked down at his bruised hands.

"Carson," he said softly. "That policeman would like to go home."

"I'll tell the medical staff to have a break," said Beckett.

He walked back into the infirmary, called the evening shift staff together and told them to leave. A few looked back at McKay then at Beckett and asked if they could stay to help. No, said Beckett. McKay didn't like the crowds of people around right at the moment. Could someone call Dr Heightmeyer and ask her to come to the infirmary, please. One of the nurses said, I will, Dr Beckett; will Dr McKay be all right? He's mobile and in one piece, and he's still obnoxious. Not much change there, he said. Beckett made it a joke. The staff accepted this, as they always did when Beckett wasn't telling the truth. He was a good liar. Sheppard was hovering in the doorway watching him with knowing eyes. He motioned Beckett out.

"What aren't you telling anyone?" he asked. "What did Cameron say?"

"He said that Rodney should talk to Dr Heightmeyer," Beckett gave a little bit of information. "He said that Rodney will have known that the others were dead because none of them came to help."

"Shit," Sheppard swore. "Why are you getting rid of your staff?"

"Because," Beckett said patiently, "Rodney doesn't want anyone around and I'm perfectly happy to indulge that if it means that I can examine those bruises. DI Chatham"-Sheppard looked away uncomfortably-"said that she thought he'd been beaten."

"You'll tell me what you find?" Sheppard asked.

"No, I won't," Beckett said with asperity. "Not unless Rodney allows it." Sheppard looked mulish and Beckett caved a little. "I'll tell you what I can."

"You'll come up to Elizabeth's office?" Sheppard sounded just a little bit pathetic.

"Yes," said Beckett. "When I'm sure that Rodney is okay. Now, go away before he changes his mind."

He made sure the police standing vigil were out of McKay's sight-it was the back area of the infirmary anyway. It was four hours before he got to Weir's office and he went reluctantly. He spent time with McKay concocting a safe-to-tell-people story, and left him with Heightmeyer who, knowing McKay of old, took him firmly in her care and marched him off to her office despite his protests. You need to talk, Rodney, Beckett told him. McKay looked ashamed and said, it had only happened the once. He didn't think Prenum knew. No, Rodney, Prenum knew, Beckett said. Did Carson think that policeman would say anything? No, said Beckett. Did Sheppard know? He didn't want Sheppard to know. Above anyone else, he didn't want Sheppard to know. Rodney, said Beckett gently, rape is not the fault of the victim. McKay sat in his chair and shook. They're dead because of me, he said. No, Rodney, Beckett said, they're dead because of Prenum. I'll talk to that policeman tomorrow, Carson, said McKay. About Peter. I can do that for Peter's family. Beckett leaned on the infirmary wall after Heightmeyer and McKay left and wept at his bravery.

"He's fit for interview," Beckett announced coming into Weir's office.

"You're not serious?" asked Weir as Sheppard said, "You're kidding."

"He's lucid, sane, and physically he's not doing too badly," said Beckett mentally crossing his fingers at the white lie. "It's mostly bruising-he was beaten when he didn't cooperate-but nothing's broken."

"He was injured in the Genii attack," said Weir.

Beckett semi-shrugged. "I think the Genii doctors need booting out of the profession," he said, "but they didn't do a bad job of patching him up. I'm more concerned about him mentally." Weir started to speak but he held up his hand to stop her. "It's weighing on his mind that people were killed so Prenum could get to him. As it would, obviously."

"But …" protested Sheppard.

"Rodney is also feeling guilty that DI Chatham was killed," said Beckett.

"Cameron …" Sheppard tried again.

"Colonel, what Mr Stretton said to Rodney didn't cause his feelings of guilt," said Beckett, deliberately adding, "What happened to Colonel Sumner wasn't your fault but did that stop you from feeling guilty?"

Sheppard face went still. "You fight dirty, Carson," he said in a low voice.

"When I have to, Colonel," answered Beckett. "Rodney's way of handling his guilt over DI Chatham is to want to do the interview. He knows about deaths abroad from stuff in the papers about Princess Diana. He said he'd do it for Peter's family."

"He's not going to be there without me," said Sheppard. "Or you."

"They'll allow one person there, Colonel," said Beckett. "I'll be outside and if I think that Rodney's losing it, I'll stop the interview."

"I think I'll be there, too," said Weir. "I'm not happy about this, Carson."

"Then we're back to where we were at the beginning," said Beckett. "I thought we'd got past the 'bad police officers' stage. Rodney _wouldn't be here_ to interview if it weren't for them. They have to do their jobs and I've asked Mr Stretton to be careful in the interview."

"And how is he?" asked Weir. "Is _he_ fit to interview anyone? Are any of them?"

"They'll be fine," said Beckett. "They want to leave."

McKay came to the interview looking irritated at being escorted by a hovering Sheppard. Heightmeyer, Weir and Beckett met them outside the room where Miller had been interviewed. Breen was fiddling with the camera and acknowledged McKay with a nod.

"You don't have to do this, Rodney," said Weir. "You can leave it for a while."

Breen glanced at her but went back to the camera without saying anything.

"And yet, here I am, being the brave little soldier," said McKay mockingly. "Oh sorry, Colonel, didn't mean to step on military feet."

"Doesn't matter, Rodney," said Sheppard.

"Stop it," snapped McKay. "You're tiptoeing around me as though I'm going to break. It was nice to start with but when you stopped feeding me it just became annoying."

"So, you're fine, huh?" Sheppard asked looking a little annoyed himself.

"Of course, I'm not fine. I got captured, injured, tortured and you"-he waved a finger in Beckett's face-"did not rule out radiation poisoning. I could be dying for all you know. You didn't even talk about it and got me to the infirmary under false pretences. What sort of doctor are you?"

"A geneticist," said Beckett playing along, catching Heightmeyer's eye. "I like science experiments." McKay's mouth did its guppy impersonation. "Daniel"-Breen looked up-"Where's Mr Stretton?"

"On his way, sir," said Breen. "He stopped off at the infirmary to see Ade."

Stretton walked in with Tynan in tow. He looked over the crowd.

"Are we set, Danny?" he asked.

He was wearing a rollneck sweater that hid most of the bandage on his neck but McKay's eyes drifted to it. Stretton still looked shattered as though he'd got no sleep and was masking it.

"Yes, boss," said Breen.

"Dr McKay, after you," said Stretton. "Colonel?"

"Coming," said Sheppard. He caught Stretton's arm. "Cameron … look, I …"

Stretton looked down at Sheppard's hand and said, "I know" and nodded at Heightmeyer. Sheppard took his hand away and chewing his bottom lip, followed him into the room.

Beckett noticed that Stretton was wearing an earpiece. Breen handed Heightmeyer a set and said, "Just speak when you need to, ma'am, but remember, Mr Stretton will hear anything you say."

The door slid shut.

They took a minute to settle and Tynan flicked on the tape.

"Interview with Dr Rodney McKay. The time is 9.07 am. Those present, Detective Sergeant Benjamin Tynan and Commander Cameron Stretton, Greater Manchester Police. Also present, Colonel John Sheppard, United States Air Force. Dr McKay, I must caution you that you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand the caution, sir?"

"Yes," said McKay.

"Dr McKay, you understand the reason for this interview?" asked Tynan.

"You're interviewing me for the coroner's inquiry about Peter Grodin. I read the papers, I know what it's about," McKay said.

"This wasn't in the papers, sir," said Tynan testingly.

"Paris. Princess Diana," said McKay. "Commonwealth brethren-it makes the news."

"You were on the mission to try to fix the Legrange point satellite, sir?" Tynan was being obvious.

"It wasn't a satellite; it was a weapons platform," put in Sheppard.

"Thank you, Colonel, but please let Dr McKay respond to any questions," said Tynan. "Your role is to advise Dr McKay and you're not to take part in the interview outside of that."

Sheppard immediately said, "I don't think …"

Stretton said nothing but put his finger to his mouth. Sheppard frowned but settled down.

"Dr McKay?" asked Tynan. "Please answer the question."

McKay looked between Sheppard and Stretton, who was looking at his hands and not watching anyone at all.

"Um, yes," said McKay. "It was Lt Miller, Peter and me."

"What did you say to Dr Zelenka before you left?" Tynan asked.

"Huh?" said McKay. "Goodbye, maybe?"

"Did you say something about your qualifications?" Tynan said, his face looking bland.

"Probably," said McKay. "I am the most qualified person here."

Outside, Beckett and Weir winced. Weir breathed, "Rodney …"

"Sounds a bit arrogant, sir," said Tynan.

"I'm also extremely arrogant," agreed McKay one-upping him.

"What did you talk about on the way to the satellite?" Tynan went on.

"The Wraith, what else?" McKay said. "We were all going to die and frankly, I didn't want to."

"What happened when you got to the satellite?" asked Tynan.

"We fixed it, it broke again, Peter died," McKay replied succinctly.

"Some details would be useful, Doctor," said Tynan not reacting to McKay's snotty voice.

"Like what?" McKay asked in his you're-really-stupid voice.

"Tell me about the artificial gravity," said Tynan. "What happened there?"

"Here we go," said Beckett quietly.

"It wasn't on, it came on, I fell and hurt my back," said McKay.

Stretton started tapping a finger on the table. He didn't seem impatient. It was an idle gesture. He still wasn't watching McKay but Sheppard was watching him. He looked concerned.

"When you turned on the artificial gravity, how far did you fall?" Tynan inquired.

"I didn't turn it on, Peter did," corrected McKay.

"What did you say to him?" asked Tynan.

McKay opened his mouth but nothing came out. Eventually he said, "Nothing ...?"

"Dr McKay," said Tynan. "Did you say to Dr Grodin that he assumed with your life when he thought the gravity would come on more slowly?"

McKay gaped at him. He was pale. Not scared just aghast.

Stretton finally looked up. He let out a breath and said, "Dr McKay, did you kill Dr Grodin?"

Sheppard looked sick.

"What?" McKay stood up agitatedly.

"Sit down, please sir," said Tynan in a warning tone. Stretton put a hand on his arm and Tynan glanced at him and sat back.

McKay sat and stared at Stretton.

"Dr McKay, did you kill Dr Grodin?" Stretton repeated.

"No!" said McKay clearly distressed. "No!"

Stretton watched him for a little while and said nothing. Sheppard shifted in his chair. Tynan's eyes flickered from Stretton to McKay. He looked a little confused, as though Stretton's action was unexpected. McKay sat still, despite his anxiety and watched Stretton back. He didn't try to look sincere; he just looked hurt. Beckett glanced at Heightmeyer. She was watching both of them but didn't seem inclined to interfere. Beckett held his breath.

Stretton blinked, tapped his finger again, and said very suddenly, "Thank you, Dr McKay. Interview terminated 9.18 am." He leaned past Tynan and clicked off the tape. Tynan looked at the tape and back at Stretton.

"That's it?" asked McKay baffled.

"Yes, that's it," said Stretton briefly. "Thank you for your time. Ben, pack up. We're leaving."

"Cameron …" said Sheppard.

"Now, Ben," said Stretton ignoring Sheppard.

He walked out of the room and past Weir and Beckett without saying anything. He inclined his head at Heightmeyer who smiled at him and nodded. McKay came out looking bewildered.

"He's strange," he complained.

Breen glared at him but McKay didn't notice. Breen said, "You just got let off the hook, sunshine."

"Danny," said Tynan warningly. "We're leaving. Dr Beckett, Mr Stretton will be down in the infirmary."

"I've made arrangements," said Beckett. "All the documentation is ready. The carpenters made a casket. It's nothing fancy."

Tynan and Breen drew together. "Thank you, Dr Beckett," Breen said gruffly.

"Can I help?" asked Sheppard. "With your gear."

"It's just this stuff, sir," said Breen. "Everything else is ready to go. Tapes, Sarge?"

Tynan handed him the audiotape and Breen marked it off, putting it in a plastic bag, and sealing it. He did the same with the digital videotape.

They started making their way upstairs, Heightmeyer hanging back with McKay. Weir and Sheppard broke into a run as the gateroom alarm blared and a call came over the PA. Heightmeyer pulled McKay away, not letting him follow them. She made shooing motions at Beckett.

"Unauthorized off-world activation," the gate tech called. The shield was already up by the time they got there. "It's the Genii, Dr Weir. Ladon is asking to come through."

"Lower the shield," said Weir curiously.

Ladon came through with armed guards and the Atlantis marines stiffened and raised the guns. In the midst of the guards were three men, their hands tied.

"Tell your men to put their weapons down, Ladon," Sheppard called.

"We're not here to attack, Colonel," Ladon answered. "They're here to guard the prisoners."

The police arrived, carrying their luggage and gear as Weir, Sheppard and Ladon conversed quietly. Stretton frowned at Ladon and joined them, clearly reluctantly, when Sheppard waved him over. Beckett moved up, too.

"What now?" Stretton said.

"These are the men complicit with Prenum. He"-Ladon indicated a goonlike creature-"is the one who shot your officer."

Stretton went very still. "And why did you bring them here?" he asked.

Ladon said, "For you to take the appropriate action."

"No. No," said Stretton immediately. "The crimes took place on your soil. Your people. Don't palm them off onto me."

"You don't think they should be punished?" asked Ladon looking puzzled.

"I'm the wrong person to be asking," said Stretton tensely. "Excuse me."

He went across to his team and said something. Barker looked at the Genii thoughtfully. The police stacked their gear neatly and all of them left. Beckett presumed they were getting the rest of their things.

Beckett excused himself and went down to the infirmary. Stretton was standing next to the casket, which was on a gurney. He picked up the paperwork that Beckett had left, sagged back against the wall, straightened, walked around the casket and then slammed the envelope down on the nearest desk.

"Why did you stop the interview with Rodney?" Beckett asked, giving Stretton a chance to control himself.

It took a moment. "Because it was an accident and I'm over wasting anymore time on it," Stretton said. He still sounded angry.

"You thought it was a waste of time? All along?" Beckett queried.

"Partly," said Stretton honestly.

"Did you have a choice in coming?" he asked.

"Yes," said Stretton. "It wasn't until we got to Cheyenne Mountain that we found out how long it would take. Too late to back out then."

"You don't think you were sent here because of you," remembered Beckett.

"No," said Stretton. He picked up the paperwork again tapping it against his leg. "Anyone could have done it but I suppose they would only take a senior officer."

Something didn't ring true about that but Beckett couldn't put his finger on it so he changed the subject.

"Rodney's getting some help," said Beckett.

"Good," said Stretton.

"Have you ever worked in … I suppose the name has changed," said Beckett.

"Sapphire," said Stretton. "No, couldn't handle it."

Beckett was surprised. "Really?" he asked.

"I have daughters, Dr Beckett," said Stretton. "They think I'm overbearing as it is."

Breen arrived with Tynan.

"We're good, boss," said Tynan. "We can take her now."

Stretton looked down at the paperwork and nodded. "Ade coming?" he asked.

"Nope," said Breen. "Said he needs to sort something out first. He said he'd meet us in the gateroom-to make sure I left, he said."

As Stretton started to follow them out, Beckett stopped him.

"Did Barker give you the information about Michael?" he asked.

Stretton considered him. "Yes," he said. "Katie asked him for the full report. He doesn't like people, he says, but he's a strict catholic moralist deep down. He's also a police officer. When he has evidence, he'll produce it, however reluctantly."

Beckett nodded. "I was curious, that's all," he said. "It doesn't matter."

There was a crowd in the gateroom but most people held back. The Genii were still there; Ladon was in Weir's office. He came down and went to speak to Stretton. Tynan moved in front of him, cutting off his access.

"Goodbye, sir," Tynan said pleasantly.

Barker was standing close to the Genii, waiting for Breen. They moved out of the way of the gate as it kawooshed open.

"Stay in touch," Sheppard said in his cheerfully threatening manner. Ladon raised an eyebrow. Sheppard strolled over to Stretton as the Genii disappeared through the wormhole. "We gave Ladon some info on trials and innocent until proven guilty."

Stretton just nodded and the gate kawooshed opened again. Weir came down the steps and said, "Thank you for your help, Mr Stretton. You know, you never did say who Peter was connected to."

"I don't know any lack of oxygen people, Dr Weir," he said.

"That's not an answer," she said.

He gave her a sudden smile. "No, it isn't, is it," he said. "Thank you, Dr Weir." He shook her hand.

Sheppard was hovering, arms folded. He stepped forward as Beckett heard a cheerful, "Hey, sexy!"

Cadman brushed past and hugged Stretton who looked startled. She bounced back and winked, saying, "See ya." She walked backwards into Sheppard who looked disapproving. She blushed, waved at Breen and Tynan who had smiles on their faces, and disappeared.

"I won't hug you," said Sheppard.

"Thank you," Stretton said sincerely. He held out his hand. "Colonel."

"Cameron," said Sheppard.

They gave each other the same weirdly understanding nod that they did when they found the bodies. Sheppard shook Tynan's and Breen's hands. Beckett nodded at them both, looking back to see Stretton watching him.

"Dr Beckett," he said.

"Mr Stretton," Beckett replied.

Barker pulled Breen in for a hug and said something quietly. Breen suddenly smirked, looked at the wormhole, and said, "You're a good lad, Ade."

"Let's go," called Stretton.

They had a couple of marines helping them through. The marines grabbed the police's gear as the officers escorted the coffin. They didn't look back at the crowd watching them leave. As the wormhole shut down, Rodney McKay charged into the gateroom.

"You're too late," said Sheppard. "They've gone."

"What?" said McKay distractedly. "Who?"

He spotted Barker, standing watching the gate, his hands in his pockets.

"You!" McKay pointed. "I went past your lab! Your insects aren't there! They're poisonous! Are they poisonous? I don't want to get bitten by a poisonous insect in my sleep!"

"They're not poisonous, Doc. They're like fleas," said Barker.

McKay immediately began scratching and demanded, "Where are they?"

Barker looked serenely at the gate.

"I dunno, Doc," he said with complete tranquility. "They must have escaped."

Beckett remembered how close Barker-a strict catholic moralist-had been standing to the Genii and started to smile.

_TBC … _

_Notes:_

_The story of the servant with syphilis: From the Marquis de Sade's Philosophy in the Bedroom which ends in a character ordering his servant, who has syphilis, to rape a woman. I've not read any of the works of this misogynist sicko; it was bad enough reading the summary. _

_Commonwealth brethren: Canada is, of course, part of the Commonwealth. Hurrah!_

_Sapphire: Sapphires are The Met's specialist rape and sexual assault units. Each policing area of London has one._

_Catholic: note the small 'c' in the text meaning broad or liberal rather than the big 'C' denoting Roman._

_Next chapter: The End._


	22. Chapter 22

_In which it's a cold Kentish day_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Chapter 22**

Despite his heritage Carson Beckett preferred the weather in Atlantis. It rarely got cold-even during the hurricane it wasn't that cold. Rodney had complained about it afterwards but Beckett had never been more than a little chilly. Not like now. He wore one of his disreputable suits under a heavy wool coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck, and thick socks and shoes with insulating soles. All the same, he was freezing in the pale, icy sunshine of the northern Kent winter.

It was a smallish family church attached to a large estate. Chatham's family, he supposed. They'd been driven there in a couple of embassy cars that attracted attention. They were attracting attention themselves. Well, people were actually ignoring him; he looked ordinary, as did Weir. Teyla, despite her exotic looks, had little notice taken of her. Even Ronon, giant though he was, dredlocked though he was, didn't have as much attention given to him as Sheppard, Lorne and Cadman did in their dress uniforms. In the sea of blue serge they stood out as different. Beckett, wandering through the crowd, heard mutters of "Iraq" and "Afghanistan" and "bloody Yanks." They weren't the only military there. He could see formal British Army uniforms; some of those wearing them looked like Chatham. Her brothers, perhaps. He remembered that she was supposed to be a handbag and that she'd told her parents she was doing art history.

"We're getting looked at," observed Lorne standing beside him.

"You're getting observed, Major," replied Beckett between his teeth. "They've been ignoring me. Now they're wondering who I am, thank you very much."

"Excuse me, sirs," said a quiet voice. It was a young man in a badly cut suit. "DC Alan Davis. DS Tynan asked if you could join him in the church please, Major Lorne. He said he'd catch up with you later, Dr Beckett."

"You work with DS Tynan?" asked Beckett.

"Just transferred, sir," Davis said. "Bad timing."

"Yes," said Beckett. "Is DC Breen here? And Mr Stretton? How is he?"

"Danny's with DS Tynan, sir," said Davis. "They're helping with the service. I don't think Mr Stretton is here yet. He seems to be okay but I can't really tell."

"Can't tell what?" Lorne asked.

"He's always like this with newbies and I'm not to worry about it," Davis put quote marks around it.

"Like what, son?" asked Beckett.

"Permanent bad temper," said Davis ruefully. "I've been with them for two weeks and I haven't done anything right yet. Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything; that was out of order."

"We've worked with him," said Lorne. "You're not revealing any secrets here."

Beckett remembered Chatham showing Stretton her fingernails and his delighted smile at her. Yes, he'd be hard to work for but still, Beckett bet that in a short time Davis would be as devoted as the rest of them. Lorne murmured that he'd go to the church and left Beckett with Davis. Beckett wanted gossip.

"They're back at work?" he asked. "They didn't get any time off?"

"Shortstaffed," said Davis.

"Europe," recalled Beckett.

"Some of it, sir," said Davis. "I can't say much more."

"No, of course," said Beckett hastily. "Aren't you cold?"

"Freezing, sir," said Davis. "Bloody Kent. I'm fetching and carrying today, sir, so I'd best go."

"Wait, did you know DI Chatham?" asked Beckett.

"Not very well, sir," said Davis. "She gave a couple of lectures at Hendon while I was training. And I met her a few times on obbos, that sort of thing. She was really nice."

"Yes, she was," Beckett agreed. "You haven't asked how we know her."

"DS Tynan me told that curiosity is a bad thing, sir," said Davis. "I know where they were is classified. Everyone figures Iraq and Afghanistan but can't work out the connection between the Yanks and the foreigns."

"Foreigns?" Beckett looked confused.

"The bloke with the dreds and the pretty lady," said Davis. "He looks like a mercenary but no one reckons she is-at least, not in Iraq or Afghanistan. North Africa or somewhere in South America, maybe, but that doesn't quite jell with what people are saying. People are gossiping anyway, sir. I have to go. I don't want Danny yelling at me. Or the Sarge. Everyone's a bit stressed out."

"Thank you," said Beckett. "For the chat."

"Sir," nodded Davis. As he turned to go he added, "No one can figure you out either, sir, being a Scot and working with the Yanks 'n' all."

Thrown a little off balance Beckett went to find Weir. He found her with Ronon and Teyla standing near the driveway.

Seeing him looking around Weir said, "Sheppard, Lorne and Cadman are in the church. DS Tynan asked for them. A couple of the British military people went in, too. Her family, perhaps. I think they want Sheppard to do something."

"What will happen at this … funeral?" Teyla asked. "This building is very old, I think."

"Couple of hundred years from the style," said Beckett. "I'm not sure but from the lads over there with the load of sheet music, I suspect it's a sung eucharist."

"Eucharist?" asked Teyla.

"It sort of means thanksgiving. Aside from a couple of lessons from the bible-a holy book, that is-everything will be sung by the choir," said Beckett.

"Lessons?" Teyla asked.

"Someone will read from the book," said Beckett. "We just listen. We won't have to do anything."

"Then what do they want Sheppard for?" said Ronon.

"They want us to help escort the coffin after the service," said Sheppard coming up behind them.

"Ouch," said Weir.

"I wasn't going to say no," said Sheppard. He nodded towards four of the men in the military uniforms. Two had dress swords that Ronon was eyeing off. "They're her brothers and a cousin. Colonel in the Blues and Royals, a Major in the Life Guards-bet that's an interesting rivalry-and the third one is the family outcast apparently-British Navy. The cousin's also in the Army. Fusiliers, I think. They're the only ones not asking any questions about us."

"It's an honor," said Cadman.

"Well, try not to fling yourself at Cameron, okay?" said Sheppard severely.

"How can I resist, though, sir?" she said. "I've been pining."

"His wife will be here, Laura," said Beckett.

"I'm kidding, Carson," said Cadman. "I can't fling in this uniform anyway. It's too uncomfortable."

"Dr Beckett?" It was Davis again. "Ma'ams, sirs, I can show you to your seats now."

"This is DC Davis," Beckett introduced him. "He's just started work with our police team."

As everyone nodded hello, Davis gave Beckett a narrowed look and murmured, "_Our_ police team. Interesting."

"Are you enjoying working with Mr Stretton, DC Davis?" asked Teyla politely.

"Not so far, ma'am," said Davis.

Teyla looked disconcerted and Beckett leaned over to whisper that Stretton was treating him badly. She said, I'm sure he doesn't mean to, Carson. He's grieving.

"Will this be a sung service?" asked Beckett to change the subject.

"Yes, sir," said Davis. "The Met Choir. The sarge arranged it with her family. He said her parents-that's them over there, sir-hadn't wanted her in the job but her brothers insisted that the police service be the focal point of the funeral. They asked Mr Stretton to speak but he said no."

"Why?" asked Weir. "I would have thought he'd have wanted to."

"Here's your seats," said Davis not answering. "Everything starts in half an hour or so. Sorry for the wait."

As he disappeared, one of Chatham's brothers replaced him. He was very RP and wore the Household Cavalry officer's dress uniform. Everyone stood but he waved them back down.

"Colonel Sheppard," he said courteously. "Would you introduce me to your …" He paused a little. "Your colleagues?"

"Uh, sure," said Sheppard still standing. "Dr Elizabeth Weir, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagen and Dr Carson Beckett. You've met Major Lorne and Lieutenant Cadman. Um, this is Colonel Henry Chatham."

"Sir," Lorne and Cadman said also standing.

"Colonel," said Weir graciously. "Your sister will be much missed."

"Thank you," the Colonel said. "I'm not to ask how you knew her."

"I'm sorry," Weir said.

"I understand," said Chatham. "The police told us as much as they could."

"She said her family didn't want her to join the police," said Beckett.

"No," admitted Chatham. "It sounds hideously sexist, I know, but it never seems the right job for a woman. She loved it, though, and she was damned good at it."

"Do you know Mr Stretton?" asked Teyla. "He does not seem to be here yet."

"Yes, though not well," said Chatham. "He knows Andy better-that's the family traitor in the Royal Navy uniform over there. Stretton and Kate were close. I asked him if he'd say a few words but he said no."

"I was just saying that I thought he'd want to," said Weir.

Chatham shook his head. "Alixandra, Kate's friend, his wife you know, said he was too upset. He didn't seem that way, of course, when I spoke to him. Hides it well, good man. She suggested that it might upset the parents if he spoke anyway. They blame him for taking her to … wherever the hell you come from. We're on guard duty, Davey and I-he's the other one in the red trim cap-so they don't meet. Pa's likely to lose his temper and Stretton's a vicious bastard when he wants to be."

"It was kind of you to ask Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne, and Lieutenant Cadman to help carry the casket," said Weir.

"Not our idea, actually," said Chatham. "Stretton suggested it when he found out you were coming. Damned good idea. It'll make the Officers' Dibble wonder a bit. Kate would have got a good laugh from it."

"Oh," said Weir taken back.

"I'm sorry," Chatham looked back at the door. "Looks like I'm being called."

"Before you go, Colonel," Beckett asked. "Why has it taken so long for the funeral? It's been over a month."

"Medical examiner wouldn't release her body," said Chatham looking annoyed and upset, the stiff upper lip Army officer mask slipping. "Never explained, despite us taking it to our local MP and the Home Office. Stretton said it was something to do with it being a death abroad. Bloody ironic really."

They sat in glum silence. It was bloody ironic, thought Beckett, as the sea of blue serge began filtering in. His reverie was interrupted by Cadman.

"Aw look, she's cute," Cadman said.

A little girl, about 8-years-old, with long brown hair was wending her way through the police officers. She was wearing a dark plum-colored suit with an incongruous red felt beret with a long feather decorating it. She seemed to be looking for someone and climbed onto a pew to make herself taller. Cadman noticed the streaks of tears on her face.

"Hey honey," Cadman got up and went across. "You okay?"

The little girl's lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. "I can't find my daddy," she said.

Cadman looked at her, gave a sudden smile, and said, "I bet I know who your daddy is."

"Who?" she asked suspiciously.

"I bet your daddy is Cameron Stretton," Cadman said.

"Yessss," the little girl drew out slowly. "How did you know?"

"I met him recently," Cadman said. "Will I go find him?"

"No need," came Stretton's voice. He was wearing a police uniform, a laurel wreath symbol crossed by two swords on his epaulettes. There was no bandage on his neck and the stitches had been taken out but the scar left by Anscom's attack was obvious. He said something in Cadman's ear and she blushed a fiery red. He looked down at his daughter, pathetically biting her bottom lip and looking wretched. "What's the matter, Miss Anna Rose Stretton?"

"I didn't know where you were," she said.

"I don't know how you could fail to miss me," he said mildly. "I'm very tall."

She plucked at a silver button on his uniform. "I'm very short," she said tearfully.

"Fair point," he conceded. "So, you know where I am now."

"That man said you were going away again," she said mutinously.

"Which man?" Stretton asked.

"He had lots of braid and he looked silly," Anna Rose said.

"Don't tell him that, pet," said Stretton. "He's the Commissioner. I think you can stop the tears now."

"Are you going away?" she started crying again despite the injunction to stop, a querulous tone to her voice. "I don't want you to."

"What don't we like in our house?" said Stretton firmly, no smile on his face.

She pursed her lips and looked up at him through her eyelashes. She blew out a breath and said sulkily, "We don't like whining children putting on tears to get attention."

"That's right," said Stretton. "And what would Katie say?"

"Katie would say that negative attention seekers misbehave for a reason but since none of those psychologically apply to the normal and well-adjusted Stretton children, we must be aiming for Academy Award nominations for Best Female Actor," Anna Rose recited in a normal tone of voice.

"Precisely," said Stretton calmly not looking surprised at his daughter's beyond-her-age vocabulary. "And your mother would say that children with tear-streaked faces are ugly."

"I'm not ugly," she protested. "Do I look ugly?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "And your hat's fallen off."

She bent down to grab it as he pulled out a handkerchief.

"Spit," he commanded.

She gave a delicate spit into the hanky and he wiped her face. All the Atlanteans were smiling at her; Ronon, in particular, looked completely delighted.

"Blow," he said.

She took the hanky and blew her nose. He took her hat, crammed it on her head, straightened the feather, lifted her down and finally gave her a smile saying, "Go find Emmy and Cat and try to avoid the Commissioner. I like my job."

"You're not going away, are you, Daddy?" she asked holding onto his trouser leg.

"No," he said.

"Good," she nodded decisively and marched out, giving Cadman a big wink and a grin.

"Aw, she's so cute," Cadman said to him.

"And she plays to every sucker in the crowd," said Stretton. He looked them over. "Hello."

"Hey," Sheppard said.

The rest of them murmured hello back. Beckett thought he looked under a lot of strain and very tired. Stretton put his hands in his uniform pockets and leaned against the pew.

"You look very fetching, Lieutenant," he said mockingly.

"Dress uniform," she said blushing again.

"Cameron," a woman said in the toffiest accent Beckett had ever heard, even on a BBC drama. "Stop flirting with the Yank. That idiot boss of yours says he wants you to go to Poland. The Commissioner's playing noddy along with him."

This, Beckett supposed, was Alix. Dressed in a matching red to her daughter's beret, the very elegant and expensive looking Alix Stretton was heavily pregnant. Stretton's remark about being home in six weeks clicked into place for Beckett. She looked irritated and raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"I've pointed out your pending state, dear heart," said Stretton still in a mocking voice, his Mancunian accent in strong contrast to her RP drawl, "and have said no."

"Good," she said decidedly. "Just wanted to check. You can go back to your flirting now, darling."

"Oh," said Cadman looking alarmed. "Ma'am, he's not …"

"I know that, pet," Alix said. "He's too henpecked to take any notice of other women."

Stretton smiled at her and she lost the haughty look. She caught his hand, leaning in girlishly adoring for a kiss. "Katie's parents are here," she said. "Try not to be too horrible to them."

"Andy said they were running interference," said Stretton. "I'll try to be good."

"Did our Anna Rose do her woe is me shtick?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Everyone fell for it."

"Don't they always?" she said. "Introduce me to your friends later. I'll go round up the hellions and remind Emmy to turn off that bloody moby you got her. Don't tell her she can get a tattoo."

She gave the same wink to Cadman as her daughter had and strolled out casually, as much as being, Beckett reckoned, nearly nine months pregnant allowed.

"Wow," muttered Sheppard looking dazzled.

"Yes," said Stretton simply.

"Six weeks," Beckett said to him.

"Two weeks now," said Stretton. "Give or take." He fiddled with the braid on his hat, rolling it around in his hands, and said very softly, "How is Dr McKay?"

"He's still in …" said Beckett cut himself off before he said Atlantis. "He has some good days."

Colonel Chatham came past and said, "Sorry, can you disappear for a moment while we sit the parents? He's in a foul mood and everything including the weather is currently your fault."

Stretton rolled his eyes and watched for a moment as a well-dressed elderly couple came in escorted by Breen and then he vanished in the other direction. Breen gave the Atlanteans a tiny wave as they went past. The old man glared at them. Chatham's mother looked stoic. They sat in the front pew with their sons. Breen came back down.

"Glad you're here," he said.

"Thank you," said Weir. "Dr Heightmeyer sends her regards. I forgot to mention it to Mr Stretton."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," said Breen.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

"No, more than likely he won't give a toss," he said frankly. "She did well with Dr McKay that last day, though, he said. Got the Doc through, her support did."

"We met your new colleague," said Beckett. "DC Davis."

"Poor kid came in all hot to trot wearing a designer suit and citing his graduate status," said Breen reflectively. "The boss can't stand him but he'll get over it; he did me. Kid's got a double degree in Molecular Medicine and Biochemistry so he'll do okay."

"His suit today is pretty awful," said the nattily uniformed Sheppard.

"Detectives have two suits," said Breen, dressed in a nicely cut suit himself. "One for good, one for interviews. Davis keeps getting his wrong. He'll learn-eventually."

"Where's Dr Barker?" asked Weir.

"Organising the cortege," said Breen. A soft whistle made him look down to the door. "We're on."

Stretton came back in with his family and sat further up the church. All of his girls were cute, Cadman whispered. The eldest-Emmy with the phone, Beckett supposed-looked in her mid-teens. The other girl-Cat?-was around twelve, Beckett thought. Anna Rose sat on Stretton's lap, the feather in her beret hitting him in the face every time she turned her head. Finally, he pulled it off, took out the feather, and jammed the beret back on. His wife sat in close and Cadman whispered to Beckett that she bet they were holding hands.

The choir rustled their sheet music and opened with something, Beckett thought, sung in German. Everyone stood, Sheppard hauling Teyla to her feet and motioning a puzzled Ronon up as well. Everyone turned their heads to the doors of the church-everyone but Stretton who, standing Anna Rose on the seat next to him, looked straight ahead. His wife turned with everyone else but rested her head on his shoulder. She looked like she was crying. He looked down at her and pulled her in, his arm around her waist.

In a precise formation that any military service would have been proud of, uniformed police constables wearing white gloves carried in the coffin. A blue flag with a checked border, and the Metropolitan Police emblem was draped over the top. The constables gently put the coffin down, stepped back, turned, and marched still in formation down to the back of the church. Everyone sat and as the choir finished and started another song, Beckett lost himself in the music.

At the service's end, Chatham's brothers and cousin stood and moved to the coffin. Sheppard, Lorne and Cadman joined them. Beckett had never seen any of them march or parade or whatever they called it. Their movements were precise, flawless. Ronon leaned forward to watch closely. Someone had found a rifle, an old-fashioned looking one that reminded Beckett of the opening sequence in _A Few Good Men_. Sheppard, Lorne and Cadman executed a perfect salute when they reached Colonel Chatham, who saluted back and solemnly presented the rifle to Cadman. It was as though they'd rehearsed for months. Cadman accepted the rifle, stepped back, saluted again, and slammed the rifle's butt down on the stone floor making more than a few people jump, and turned to face the congregation, her face still and proud.

Chatham's brothers and cousin with Sheppard and Lorne at the head of the coffin stepped in as one and lifted the coffin to their shoulders. With Cadman leading them in perfect marine drill march time they slowly made their way of the church. Ronon looked fascinated and impressed. Well, it _was_ impressive. Outside the church, the police had formed a guard of honor to the coffin and down the road. The military officers placed the coffin in the hearse, turned in unison and stood at attention, saluting as the hearse moved off. At a call from Cadman, they broke formation and stood in a circle talking quietly for a few moments. The Chatham brothers and cousin got in one of the cars following and drove off.

Weir said quietly, "That was lovely; wasn't it extraordinary?"

"The music was beautiful," said Teyla. "What was that song at the end?"

"_Jerusalem_," said Beckett. "It's sort of the unofficial English national anthem."

"Gotta ask Cadman about the gun thing," Ronon disappeared.

"There wasn't a sermon," said Weir.

"No," Beckett said. "I don't know why."

He heard someone ask about the cemetery and Tynan's voice respond, "Private burial."

Tynan finished talking and came over. He looked tired but smiled and shook hands with them though Teyla pulled him in for a hug instead. Davis was hovering about 10 feet away.

"We were just saying how beautiful it was," said Weir.

"Aye," he said. "Didn't know how that last bit would work with the different services but they did a quick rehearsal and ironed it out. Luckily they had a rifle of the right size at the big house. Your lass was very impressive."

"Cadman?" asked Weir. "Yes, the marines do that formation thing very well."

"Do you think I could speak to someone about the music?" Teyla asked.

"Oi, clothes hanger," called Tynan to Davis who looked exasperated at this wittiness. "Introduce Teyla to Paul Harris. He's in the choir, Teyla. He'll help you out."

"I don't know Paul Harris, Sarge," said Davis.

"You're a bloody detective, flub, go find out," said Tynan.

"Um, Teyla, this way," said Davis earning him a cuff across the back of the head from Tynan.

"That's Miss Emmagen to you," said Tynan severely. "You go with him, love, and don't take any of his nonsense.

"Sarge," said Davis dolefully.

Teyla with a little smile at Tynan followed Davis. Tynan turned his attention back to Weir and Beckett.

"Flub?" asked Weir.

"Fat, lazy, useless, bastard," said Tynan. "He's not and he'll do us very well but we're breaking him in at the moment."

"In your regular affectionate way," observed Beckett.

"Better a little ribbing from me and Danny than him falling under the boss's eye every other minute," said Tynan. He looked briefly lost and shrugged it away, saying, "The boss doesn't like people under his feet. Like that, 'I don't know Paul Harris' bit. If he tried that on the boss he'd get his arse kicked right good and proper."

"Your boss is very indulgent of his family, though," Weir said with a smile. "We saw him with his little girl earlier."

"If I had a family like that I'd probably be indulgent, too, ma'am," said Tynan. "Um,"-he looked around to see who was within earshot-"How's Dr McKay?"

"Not bad," Beckett said. "He has his moments."

"And our Genii mates?" asked Tynan, a note of distaste in his voice.

"Bad attack of some sort of flealike insect," said Weir.

Tynan tried not to grin and was completely unsuccessful. "Ade's a good lad," he said.

"Hmmm," said Weir.

"Are you going back straightaway?" Tynan asked. "Only there's a get-together later on if you're interested. Somewhere nice 'n' all. Not police grub."

"A police get-together?" said Beckett. "Laura would like that; she's been eyeing off the uniforms."

"I'll check with Colonel Sheppard but that sounds good," said Weir. "I'll find out what's happening with the cars. Coming Carson?"

"I think I'll have a look around the church for a bit. There's a wee cemetery that looks interesting," said Beckett.

"Excuse me, Dr Weir?" A man was standing a few feet away. He looked familiar but it was the soft, cut glass Kensington accent that put him into place. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I asked your driver to point you out to me. I'm Nicholas Grodin, Peter's brother."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr Grodin," said Weir delightedly. "Peter is still so missed in our project. This is Dr Beckett."

Grodin smiled and said, "I wish I knew what it was he did. He could never tell me. I knew he was working in something classified for the Americans but …" He sighed and shook his head. "I felt I had to come. When the family asked for the coroner's inquiry, we had no idea what to expect. And when we were told that one of the police officers died … My mother was terribly upset. I was hoping to meet the officer in charge to convey our condolences and to thank him for his work."

Tynan who had stepped back out of the conversation looked at him sharply.

"This is DS Tynan, Mr Grodin," introduced Weir. "He was on the investigation."

Grodin turned to Tynan and said, "I'm very sorry for your loss, Sergeant."

"Sir," said Tynan woodenly.

"Could you introduce me to your senior officer, do you think?" asked Grodin.

"Sir," said Tynan again and faded away.

Grodin waited until Tynan had gone and smiled ruefully, "He's upset, of course. It must be hard to lose a work colleague."

"It's certainly hard without Peter," said Weir warmly. "Everyone got along so well with him."

"That's good to hear," said Grodin. "Though, he did mention someone called Rodney, who he said was … uh, how did he put it? Cranky, I think."

Beckett's smile became a little fixed. "It's a stressful job," he said. "All of us become cranky at times."

"Well," said Grodin. "I know Peter died doing something he loved."

"Did his duty for Queen and country," said Stretton blandly. He stood a few feet away, his arms folded. Tynan stood beside him looking uncomfortable. "Go away, Ben." Tynan left, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Grodin looked amusedly puzzled. "I thought Peter worked for the Americans," he said jokingly.

"Ah," said Stretton. "I'm sure he was still loyal to Britain."

"I'm … I'm sure he was," said Grodin. "I wanted to thank you for your work, Mr … um …"

"Stretton," he replied. "But you knew that, Dr Grodin." At Grodin's pleasantness slipping at his increasingly antagonistic tone, Stretton said. "I signed off the report you were given."

"Doctor?" Weir asked.

"Of Economics," said Grodin. "I don't tend to use the honorific. Titles are meaningless. I wanted to convey my condolences, Mr Stretton."

"That means absolutely nothing coming from you," said Stretton now openly hostile. "But thank you anyway. Is that all you wanted?" Grodin looked embarrassed. "Right. Fine. Good. Dr Weir, Dr Beckett, excuse me." He stalked off.

"Oh my," said Weir. "I'm terribly sorry, Dr Grodin. That was very rude. I can only say that he was very upset by the death of his colleague."

Grodin said understandingly, "Of course. I must head off myself. I have a meeting this afternoon."

"Where do you work?" asked Weir.

"A small thinktank in London," he said. "We do economic reporting for the government. Just another civil servant, I'm afraid. Nothing as interesting, I'm sure, as what Peter did."

Weir shook his hand, as did Beckett. "Thank you for coming, Dr Grodin, and for introducing yourself to us. It's lovely to meet one of Peter's family." To Beckett, after Grodin left, she said. "That was awkward. Mr Stretton was very rude."

"Inevitably rude," said Beckett. "I could see Tynan didn't think it was a good idea."

"I'll find out what's happening with the cars," said Weir. "Give me a few minutes."

Beckett stuck his hands in his pockets and walked towards the cemetery. The grounds close to the church were well maintained but getting to the cemetery that he'd seen from the road proved difficult. The paths were overgrown and he kept getting his coat caught on brambles. Swearing quietly, as he started to untangle himself from the middle of a hedge he thought he could slip through and couldn't, he heard louder swearing from the other side. Grodin's voice, not soft anymore. He peered through and could see Grodin about 10 feet away.

He had a paper in his hand and no longer looked congenial and friendly. There was a crack of a twig close by and the sound of a cigarette being lit.

Grodin schooled his face to a pleasant mask and said, "I suppose I have you to thank for this?" He held up the paper-a parking ticket.

"Shouldn't park on a double yellow, sir," said Stretton his voice bland.

Beckett looked frantically around for a way out that wouldn't attract attention. He was trapped.

Grodin let out a snort. "What do you want?"

"I don't think you have anything to offer that I could possibly want," said Stretton.

"Unbribeable, are you?" mocked Grodin. "But I do have something you want, Mr Stretton."

"And what's that?" Stretton asked not sounding especially interested.

"I have Ben Tynan," said Grodin.

"I knew that," said Stretton. "He would, I admit, be more useful without the divided loyalties but I can cope if not."

Grodin nodded. "I see," he said. "What do you intend to do?"

"I'm a bit stupid today, Dr Grodin," said Stretton. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"About the inquiry," said Grodin.

"I've made all the inquiries I need to," said Stretton.

Beckett was frozen. This was not a conversation he should be overhearing. There was a hidden meaning in what Stretton just said and from the look on his face Grodin understood.

"About …" Grodin fished.

"You," said Stretton.

"Bloody Tynan," Grodin let out an exasperated snort. "Oh, you can have him, Mr Stretton. I also dislike divided loyalties."

"Ben told me nothing," Stretton said. "I managed to find out about you all by my lonesome."

"I work for an economics thinktank," said Grodin challengingly. "No one would believe you anyway."

"No," Stretton agreed. "A covert government agency responsible for collecting alien technology to aid in the defense of Great Britain, one that predictably has a number of spies in a top secret US government expedition to another galaxy. Why," he smiled amiably, "that just sounds like something out of _Doctor Who_, doesn't it. Who would believe that?"

Beckett felt like hyperventilating.

"Precisely," said Grodin in a pleasant voice. "How did you know?"

"I suppose you could even call it Torchwood if you wanted since names can't be copyrighted," Stretton mused. "I'm a policeman. I like to find out things, particularly when people try to hide them from me."

Grodin gave a genuine shout of laughter. "Honestly, Mr Stretton," he said in a pleased voice. "I don't know whether to have you killed or just offer you a job."

"I don't divide my own loyalties, thank you for the offer," said Stretton. "And what would be the point to having me killed? As you say, who would believe me?"

"Daddy?" called a girl's voice. Beckett turned his head and squinted through the brambles to see Stretton's oldest daughter coming down the path. "Mummy said to hurry up."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Stretton replied.

When he turned back, Beckett saw that Grodin was watching the girl leave. He held his breath.

"I think this is where I say that you have a lovely family," Grodin suggested.

"Yes," said Stretton. "I was wondering when you'd get to that."

Beckett felt sick.

Grodin held up the parking ticket. "Should I expect anymore of these?"

"Only if you park on a double yellow line. Don't and avoid the inevitable parking ticket," Stretton said his voice indicating he was talking about something else entirely.

"I'll take that advice, thank you," said Grodin pleasantly. "I have a meeting in London, Mr Stretton. It was very enjoyable meeting you. Please give Ben my final regards."

"Certainly," said Stretton. "Goodbye, Dr Grodin."

He walked up the path that Beckett had failed to see. Just out of Grodin's sight he paused and turned his head to look straight at Beckett through the brambles. He nodded.

"Dr Beckett," he said softly.

Beckett swallowed and forced his way out of the brambled hedge. He stood and watched the departing policeman's back until he was out of sight. He turned his head back and met Nicholas Grodin's eyes.

"A canny policeman indeed, Carson," said Grodin.

"Aye, I told you he'd be one to watch," said Carson Beckett.

**The End.**

_Notes_:

_Phew! Do you have any idea how long that final conversation has been in my head?_

_Hendon: The Police College where The Met trains its officers._

_Blues and Royals/Life Guards: Collectively known as the Household Cavalry. They're the ones who do all the Trooping the Colour pageantry stuff. They also stand very patiently outside Horse Guards all day, poor lads. The Life Guards wear garish red tunics, gold breastplates and their tall helmets have white plumes, while the Blues and Royals wear blue tunics, silver breastplates and they have red plumes in their helmets. The officer dress uniform is just lovely. I've been watching a documentary on them. Mmmm … Men in uniform. They're not to be confused with the Foot Guard regiments who wear red tunics and have the tall bearskin hats and march up and down outside Buckingham Palace. Gotta hand it to the royals, they do pageantry very well thanks to the British Army. All these regiments don't just prance about doing ceremonial work, however. They are all active line regiments._

_Officers Dibble: As far as I know, the use of 'dibble' to describe a police officer is peculiar to Manchester (clearly Harry Chatham picked it up from Cameron!)._

_Moby: Mobile phone or for the Americans a "cell" phone._

_Two suits: I lifted it from an episode of The Bill where Mike Dashwood doesn't get a job because he wore a designer suit to his interview that none of those interviewing him could afford._

_Big house: referring to the main house of the estate._

_Clothes hanger: A police officer whom others consider useless._

_Flub: Yes, fat, lazy, useless bastard._

_Cut glass Kensington: from Reefgirl's first review of this story._

_Did his duty for Queen and country: a paraphrase from the Doctor Who episode 'Doomsday' which was all about Torchwood. Just like this story._

_Double yellow (line): Some kerbs have two yellow lines painted on them. You can't park there._

_Torchwood: come now, did you think the Brits would just lie down and not start their own thing once they found out about the stargate? Did you think all those Doctor Who references were accidental? Hehehehehe…_

_And sorry, yes, had to do it to Carson at the end. Outside of the Princess Di idea, the basic idea behind this fic was that in any military situation the one person with the authority to remove those in power is the Chief Surgeon. Who better?_


	23. Chapter 23

_In which just because something has ended doesn't mean it's finished …_

**Reasonable Cause to Suspect**

**By EllieV**

**Epilogue**

From his office, Carson Beckett could hear Rodney McKay's complaints about being not being examined before John Sheppard. McKay had a torn fingernail and a paper cut, which admittedly Beckett thought, hurt like the plague but Colonel Sheppard on the other hand had been bitten by a bug. Not an Iratus bug, thank the good lord, but some sort of bug nevertheless. His hand was swelling up and he was not in a good mood. He was taking it out on McKay-a McKay who had come so far in only a few months.

There was a small silence and then Beckett heard Sheppard say, "Oh crap, not you lot."

"Yes sir," came Adrian Barker's cheerful voice. "Where there's bugs, there's bug doctors. Lovely looking bite there. Mind if I take a look?"

"Yes," said Sheppard flatly.

"Let the man look at your hand, Sheppard," came McKay's voice. "You're not the only one injured here."

As the inevitable bickering started, Beckett tuned it out and went back to the report he was writing on the last time the dynamic duo had been injured-a week ago. There was a knock at the door and he turned to find Barker leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey doc," he said. He was holding an envelope. "I got a letter from Danny and he included a couple of clippings. Thought you might be interested. I saw you talking to this bloke at the guvnor's funeral."

"Who?" asked Beckett.

"Dr Grodin's brother," said Barker.

He grimaced, much to Beckett's surprise, and returned to the infirmary where Sheppard had finally consented to blood tests and scrapings for the entomologists to swoon over. Beckett listened in amusement and opened the envelope. It had been seven months since the funeral so he was interested to learn what Breen had sent his friend.

The first was little more than an announcement from the _Police Gazette_ of the promotion of Commander Cameron Stretton, Metropolitan Police, to Deputy Assistant Commissioner. It was dated a month ago. It also mentioned that he would be taking a volunteer advisory role to a British government security review committee. It didn't say what he'd be doing as DAC or what the security review committee was. It mentioned he was married with four daughters and his wife, Alixandra Stretton QC, was a prominent human rights barrister.

The second article was from a newspaper and reported on the arrest of Nicholas Grodin, a Senior Civil Service economist. Beckett's jaw dropped as he read the rest of the article. Beckett sat back and considered from what criminal charges a man could salvage his reputation even if he wasn't guilty: most could survive fraud; many could survive drugs; some could survive murder. No one could survive this. No one survived smoke and whispers and sidelong glances.

He picked up the Police Gazette page and thoughtfully read it again, his eyes drifting back to the Grodin article's opening paragraph.

_A senior civil servant from North London was arrested today on child pornography charges. Nicholas Grodin of St Johns Wood was charged at Scotland Yard on 25 counts of accessing child pornography Internet sites from his place of work. Grodin was employed at Villawood, a British government economy thinktank. An assessment at Villawood under the auspices of a new security review committee found indications that Dr Grodin had registered at a number of child pornography websites via his office computer. The assessors had alerted police._

He sat back in his chair and thought about the lengths people would go to protect their families. He picked up the _Police Gazette_, gazed at the photo of DAC Cameron Stretton, and he smiled. A crash from the infirmary indicated that things weren't going well for the bug doctors. As he went out to lend a hand, Beckett started to whistle.

**Definitely The End**


End file.
